To the End
by StrawberryFields4ever
Summary: Emma discovers that the only way to save Henry is by going under a curse that takes her to a familiar place with a few unpleasant surprises.
1. Whispered confessions

**A/N:** hey there! this is my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic. As I said on my tumblr, the idea for this came up from a weird dream I had a few days ago. The first chapters are not part of that per se, they're more like a kind of intro, soon we'll get to the part that was inspired by my dream ;) I want to dedicate this to my soulmatey **_Carmina_** who encouraged me to write this and who I annoyed the hell out, asking for her opinions and such. You rock, girl, thanks for your patience :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing. Dammit.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love  
__And it looks like we might have made it  
__Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end.  
~To the End - Blur~_

* * *

"A little help here!" David's voice could be heard from her place on portside as he struggled up the gangplank. Emma ran towards him just as her father dropped on his knees on the deck, giving in to the effort of carrying a seemingly unconscious pirate captain on his shoulders. Quite unceremoniously, he dropped Hook on deck as well, whose only reaction was a small grunt.

"Damn, he's heavy!" David exclaimed between pants, trying to catch his breath.

"What the hell happened?" Emma exclaimed, kneeling down next to Hook, eyes scanning his body in search for injuries.

"We were combing the east side of the jungle looking for any clues, as we had agreed, and suddenly one of those damn carnivorous vines seemed to come to life out of nowhere and wrapped its branches around his feet and threw him to the ground. It was pulling him towards the center of the plant but I managed to cut him loose with my sword. But I think he hit his head with a rock when he fell, so I brought him here."

Emma sighed. Hook had told them as soon as they'd crossed the portal, all those days ago – or was it weeks already? She didn't think so but it sure as hell felt like they'd been trapped for fucking months in this hellhole – that Neverland was full of dangers, than even the _grass_ in certain parts could be deadly if it came in contact with one's bare skin. Despite his warnings, most of the group had at least once almost been bested by a creepy insect or a tempting mermaid or, as it now appeared, a _fucking plant_. Emma was getting pretty tired of it.

"We gotta take him to his bed," she told David, positioning herself behind Hook and wrapping her arms around his chest under his armpits. David immediately grabbed the captain's legs and they both carried him to his cabin.

It was not a long walk but for Emma it was endless, as she found out that worrying about Hook's health was proving to be increasingly difficult when all her efforts were concentrated in trying to ignore the feel of her breasts pressed against his back and his head resting on her shoulder, his black hair tickling her chin. _Get a grip, Emma. And an ice-cold bath._

_Finally,_ they were able to lie him down on his bed. Emma didn't know –or didn't want to know- what possessed her to absentmindedly run a hand through his hair, but she was glad she did because she found a big bump starting to form on one side of his head. She turned around but her father had already left the cabin, so she went to the kitchen and, a few minutes later, came back with a piece of cloth and a small basin full of cold water. She dipped the cloth in the water and pressed it against the bump on his head. It was the next best thing, as there was no ice in the ship.

Waiting for him to regain consciousness, Emma took her time to examine his face carefully. There was something about his calm expression that seemed to call her. Since she had first met him, she had seen many different sides of Hook: bad-blacksmith-impersonation, annoyed, cocky, shamelessly flirty, practically mad with revenge, betrayed and hurt. And in all this different versions of Hook's personality, she'd been able to spot the grief, anger and guilt in his eyes, in the lines of his face. Sometimes well hidden under his façades, sometimes more visible, but always there. And now, she was amazed that the only feeling etching his handsome features – because yeah, she had accepted a long time ago that he was undeniably handsome – was peace. He looked as if he was dreaming the happiest dream ever. She was tempted to let him like that, to let him enjoy that peaceful state in which he seemed to be, until she remembered that he was injured. And that they needed him to sail the ship and find Henry. _She_ needed him.

About fifteen minutes later, she felt him starting to stir, so she placed the wet cloth in the basin as his eyes fluttered opened.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," she greeted him, carefully hiding her relief to see him awake in her neutral tone.

"I wouldn't go as far as considering myself a beauty, but it's nice to know what your actual opinion of me is," he replied weakly, still a little disoriented. Still, if he had it in him to make those kinds of replies, he would be alright.

"In my world, Princess Aurora is called the Sleeping Beauty. Because you know, she was under a sleeping curse and all that," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Was I under a sleeping curse too? Oh, did you kiss me awake?" he tried to wiggle his eyebrows at her but winced in pain during the process. Emma was barely able to suppress her smirk.

"Trust me, Hook, if I kissed you, you would definitely remember it," she whispered huskily. Two could play this game. Upon seeing the startled expression in his face, she smiled satisfactorily. "Nope, sorry to disappoint you but I'm afraid you fell and hit your head with a rock."

"But you're nursing me back into health. So caring, Swan," despite his words, his tone wasn't mocking. His eyes were too intense on Emma's face and she had to look away.

"Yeah well, we need you to sail the ship and you know the most about his place, so..." she trailed off, getting up from the chair next to his bed and taking the basin with her as she walked to the door. "I'll leave you to rest for a while." She wasn't sure if she actually heard the whispered "Thanks" behind her or if she imagined it as she closed the door behind her.

* * *

"Swan! Come here." The voice came from the helm.

"What do you want, Hook?" she said as she approached him. She swore to Thor, if he dared make another comment about her being his personal nurse – as he had done many a time, in front of a livid David and a fuming Snow, since he emerged from his cabin earlier that day – she was going to give him a matching bump on the other side of his head. And not only for symmetry purposes.

"Climb up here, I'm going to teach you how to sail."

"WHAT?!" Well, that had been unexpected.

He turned around and looked down at her shocked expression. "We lost precious time last night because I wasn't able to sail due to this," he pointed at the injured side of his head, "and after some consideration, I've come to the conclusion that, should anything happen to me during this quest, someone else must learn how to sail this ship in order to make a quick getaway or to get back to your world. And you are the only person to whom I trust the Jolly Roger, Emma."

Emma was well aware that she probably looked like a complete moron, stuck in place with her jaw dropped and her eyes open wide, but how was she supposed to react after him openly expressing the extent of his trust to her? After seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes? After hearing him call her by her given name again? A few moments later, she blinked and climbed the few steps to the helm. Hook moved to the side to give her space and she stood in front of the helm. Hesitatingly, she grabbed two random pegs and looked at him, silently waiting for his feedback.

"Your position is too forced; you have to stand in a way that the helm feels like a natural extension of your body. Here," with his hook on her lower back, he pushed her gently and she took a couple of steps forward. His hand took her right and placed it in another, lower peg, his fingertips caressing lightly the back of her hand as he released her. "Does that feel better?" he asked, his voice low and velvety.

Emma nodded, not being able to trust her voice at that moment. She was suddenly too aware of Hook's closeness, his smell and the tingling sensation in her hand from where his skin had touched.

The truth is that she had always, since the beginning, felt a connection with Hook. They were too similar, they were both broken by love and the loss of it, they worked too well together, as if they shared same mind in two different bodies. It scared the hell out of her so she had kept him at arm's length as much as she could, but everything changed when he came back with the stolen bean after Henry was gone through the portal. When she had thought she had lost her baby boy for good and he came back – the only person who ever came back – bringing the bean and the hope to get Henry back. Giving her hope again.

And of course, getting Henry was her priority and she wouldn't rest until he was safe in her arms again and, most importantly, wouldn't let herself get distracted from her goal at any rate. But she could not deny that her relationship with Hook had shifted since he threw the bean she had handed him to the ocean to open the portal. Their banter now lacked the bite it had in the past. They often teamed up when they decided to do a short expedition to the island or to visit some of Neverland's native creatures. They only needed to look at the other's eyes to understand what they were thinking, no words needed.

She was broken free of her unsettling train of thoughts by the glimpse of carved marks in the wood near the helm: a P and an S crossed out with a zigzag line (_Oh dear God, please don't tell me that now we're going to run into the Zorro_).

"What's that?" she asked Hook, pointing at the marks. To her surprise, his relaxed expression hardened a little and his eyes were downcast and somber.

"Portside and starboard. I carved the letters to teach someone to sail, a long time ago," he said, no inflection in his voice.

Emma pondered about it for a few seconds until a memory came back to her and suddenly everything clicked in place.

"When I ran into Nea...Baelfire in New York, he said he knew you. And he sailed the Jolly Roger on our way back to Storybrooke – sorry about that, by the way," she added, sending an apologetic smile to his direction. "It was him you taught how to sail, wasn't it?"

"Always so perceptive, aren't you, Swan?"

Back at calling her Swan. Pulling his walls up. He was clearly hurt by that memory. It was something Emma recognized all too well. After all, she had been doing the same for over a decade. What had happened between Hook and Neal?

As if he'd been reading her thoughts – which at this point wouldn't have surprised her at all – he sighed and looked away, at sea, as he started to talk. "After the Crocodile killed Milah in front of me and chopped off my hand, my crew and I travelled to Neverland because I knew that if I wanted to avenge her death, I would have to find a way to stay alive for centuries, just like he does due to his dark magic. After some time, I rescued a boy who was drowning in the sea and brought him to my ship. I found out that he was none other than the Dark One's son, so I decided to keep him aboard and gain his trust so he could tell me the way to kill his father. But..." he trailed off.

"But he was Milah's son as well, right?" she finished for him in a soft voice, her heart hammering in her chest.

He looked at her, an unreadable look in his eyes. "Yes. Exactly. That day the Crocodile found us...we knew it was risky to go back to her town, but we wanted to take Baelfire with us, be a family together in my ship. But he had already disappeared, and his cowardly father was now a powerful dark sorcerer. Eventually, Baelfire did tell me exactly how to kill Rumplestiltskin; he was now useless to me but I couldn't bring myself to kick him out of my ship. I grew fond of him. I wanted to honor Milah's wishes and be a family for him, be a father for him. But then he found a drawing of Milah that I kept with me and he thought that I was the pirate that had killed her mother, as his father had told him," he closed his eyes, clearly upset by the memory. A rush of sympathy travelling all over her body, she placed her hand on Hook's arm and squeezed gently. He sighed again and went on. "I told him the truth, but he didn't believe me. He accused me of being the reason he had been abandoned by his mother and then his father. He called me a coward. Blinded by anger and betrayal, I sold him to the Lost Ones. My last chance of love and redemption had disappeared and all I had left was my revenge."

Emma was silent for a few minutes, taking everything in. She had never expected that he would open up to her in such a way. Somehow, it filled her with a weird sense of pride, the fact that he probably had never spoken about that out loud and now he was confiding it to her, of all people. She felt the need to reciprocate.

"He abandoned me too, you know," she added softly. Hook's head shot up to look at her. She looked down, not able to hold his penetrating gaze, and found out that she still had her hand on his arm. Gently withdrawing it, she looked up at him and told him what she hadn't told to anyone in all those years. "Remember back in the beanstalk, when I said maybe I had been in love? It was with him. I was an orphan, never wanted by anyone, and this guy came along and for the first time I saw the possibility of having a home, somewhere and someone to belong to. I was just a kid, just seventeen. He was older and cocky and dangerous and I was so damn naïve. But then he betrayed me, sent me to jail for a crime he committed. Pregnant, nonetheless," she added with a humorless laugh. "Funny how we both got screwed over by the same person centuries apart, right?" She tried to light up the mood after such a heavy heart-to-heart.

Sensing her change in mood, Hook smiled and shook his head. Then he locked eyes with her and his expression sobered. "I'm sorry, Emma. For what you had to go through. You didn't deserve that."

She gulped. There was nothing but utmost sincerity in his voice. "Ditto. And, Killian?" His name rolled from her tongue with ease; the look in his eyes when she said it made her grab the pegs of the helm tighter to stop the shaking of her hands. "Thank you for doing all this. I know it must be hard, having him on board and letting go of your revenge."

Apparently at a loss of words –_that would be a first_ – Hook nodded and, clearing his throat, motioned towards the helm, silently indicating her to go back to the sailing lesson. The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, but by the end of that day, Emma somehow felt lighter and, for the first time, she was completely certain that everything would be fine.


	2. A little help

**A/N:** whoa, so many follows in two days, thank you guys! I'm overwhelmed :D also, please keep in mind that this is unbeta-ed and English is not my native language, so there may be a few mistakes here and there (damn prepositions!)  
**Disclaimer:** If only, man.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love  
And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End - Blur~_

* * *

"Shouldn't you steer the helm a couple notches to starboard? If we keep sailing in this direction we'll crash straight into those rocks."

He turned around and directed an appreciative gaze towards the blonde. "My, my, look who has suddenly become quite the master sailor," he smirked upon seeing her eyes roll. She did that way too often. "I always knew you'd be quite enamored with the life at sea, though, and I have to admit, you do have natural instincts." He had kept a jesting tone but he did mean every word he said.

Since that first sailing lesson – that pivotal day in which the difference between starboard and portside was not as important as the fact that they bared their souls, their deepest secrets and pains to the other, finding comfort and maybe the start of the healing process in the other – she had learned quite quickly how to steer the helm so that the vessel would change direction without being too brusque, how to hold it when the strong winds attempted to take the Jolly off her course. In the short span of just two weeks, he had to bring their daily lessons to an end, seeing that she had mastered everything he had to teach her, and that had he insisted in keeping up on them, everyone –including Emma herself – would think that he was just using said lessons as an excuse to spend some alone time with her every day. Which would have been exactly the case, but there was no need to act on that so publicly, especially when you had a disgusting imp and an obnoxious witch waiting for the opportunity to stir up trouble and expose your vulnerabilities. And Swan, with her ferocious personality, her iron will, her compassion and understanding, her piercing grey-green eyes, was quickly becoming that for him.

"I'm pretty awesome, yeah, I already knew that," she added, in a slightly sarcastic tone, but with a carefully hidden pleased smile. Not as carefully as for Killian not to notice, of course. He knew how to read her face too well. "Now really, why are we sailing directly towards the rocks? I'd very much appreciate that you didn't carry all of us with you in your suicidal attempts, thank you very much."

"My darling, your lack of faith in me is becoming an old act, now," he dramatically shook his head. He very much enjoyed the playfulness their banter had acquired lately. It was a way to momentarily forget about the danger and weight of their quest for the young lad.

Emma's expression instantly sobered. "I trust you, Killian, you know it," she said in a low voice.

Since he had opened his heart and his story to her, she had taken to calling him Killian and letting him know that she wasn't the distrustful girl who had chained him up in the beanstalk – _that one had really hurt in a completely unexpected way_-, but he still found his heart doing unfamiliar flips in his chest whenever his name left her lips. Her soft, pink lips...

"I know, lass," he was not particularly fond of the tenderness of his voice. Damn Swan. He cleared his throat. "Now to answer your question: no, I'm not going on a suicidal mission. Even if I were, I would never dream of taking you with me and depriving the world of your magnificence." _If that damn girl keeps rolling her eyes so much they are going to get stuck in the back of her head_. "It is exactly near those rocks where I intend to go."

"Why? Who's there?" Snow White asked, appearing next to Emma, apparently from nowhere.

Now it was Killian's turn to roll his eyes. He did not enjoy how that family seemed unfamiliar with the concept of privacy and abstaining themselves from butting in other people's conversations. When he had offered his services to help find Emma's boy, he had not agreed to taking in the Evil Queen, the _blasted_ Crocodile and Swan's overprotective and oddly young parents. And he certainly did not enjoy the constant arguments that seemed to grow more and more frequent each passing day. It was understandable, though: they'd been in Neverland for over a month now and all their attempts to search the area for hints of Henry's whereabouts and to ask the native creatures for help had been fruitless, so the tension was high and it snapped at practically every small detail.

"Our last chance to get help before we have no other way left than venturing in the heart of the jungle by ourselves," he replied, eyes on the sea in front of him again.

They had all agreed that the best course of action would be contacting the different inhabitants of the land to see if they could cooperate with them and provide information about Greg, Tamara and Henry instead of blindly breaking into the island, which would probably have had resulted in tragedy. So far, their interactions with the mermaids had only ended up with the evil monsters trying to drown Charming (who got clocked by a furious Snow, much to Killian's amusement), the pixies had refused to help them because they had sensed the Crocodile's and the Queen's dark magic and hadn't wanted to get involved with them, and the natives... well, the natives' only interest seemed to be Emma becoming the wife of the Chief's eldest son.

That had not been an enjoyable expedition. Well, none of them had, in fact, but that one was by far the worst, in his opinion. Killian's jaw clenched just at the memory of the Indian man eyeing Emma as if she were edible. His blood had boiled at the sight of him taking a strand of her golden hair between his fingers and examining it in awe; then caressing her cheek tenderly, apparently taken aback by the contrast of his bronze hand against her pale skin. The Captain had had to muster all his will to stop himself from impaling the man with his hook. Thank the gods the lass had decided to take matters in her own hands before he could do something stupid and snapped his hand away as if he were the plague, letting the Indians know in no uncertain terms that the only thing she was interested in was information about her son. When the Chief replied that they had not seen any foreign man, woman or child around, he, Emma and David – who had accompanied them to the expedition because he resented the idea of Emma and Killian together alone and had remained silent during the whole exchange with the natives – turned around, feeling disappointed and frustrated at yet another failure to progress. Killian spent most of the walk back to the ship pondering what had possessed him to almost react so violently to the Indian's advances towards Swan. The conclusions he had come to were most unsettling. It didn't help either that that night, in his dreams, Milah's face was less visible than ever and her black hair was being replaced by silvery gold.

* * *

Less than an hour later, the six of them were going down the plank and approaching the group of rocks that stood right there in the middle of the ocean, a little too far off shore. When asked about the reason for going to this particular place, Killian had been cryptic and hadn't answered directly, so Emma had decided to drop the subject altogether. She really couldn't stand it when he was acting so mysterious.

"Mind your step," called the Captain, carefully setting his feet on a low and flat rock and moving towards the tallest of the rocks.

Just as he said that, Emma stepped on a piece of seaweed and slipped forward, collapsing with Killian's back. He held his arms behind him to hold her against him as he stumbled forward, but they didn't fall. Her hands gripped his shoulders a little too tight. She could feel her heartbeat's pace quicken with the sudden contact, and hoped for the life of her that he didn't notice. Fuck. It was like the giant's treasure room all over again.

"Glad to see you take orders, Swan," she could _feel_ the smirk in his face. Bastard. "Another trip wire, perhaps?" Ok, was he reading her mind or what?

"I think that she can regain balance just fine now, Hook," David said behind her. She didn't have to turn around to know that the vein in his forehead was probably throbbing.

Killian chuckled lightly. "Of course, Prince," he said, before letting go of her waist and starting to walk forward again. "I meant it, though, be careful. This place was not designed for visitors to come in easily. A wrong step and you'll end up in the bottom of the ocean."

"You said come _in_?" Regina interjected. "Do you mean that we are going into those rocks?"

"Precisely," he said, without turning back. "I found this rather isolated group of rocks during my previous stay in Neverland and figured they would serve as a decent hideout or warehouse, so fashioned them into a more hospitable place."

"Do you mean that someone lives here?" Emma asked, without taking her eyes from the uneven ground. She was determined to have no more seaweed-bumping-into-Killian's-muscular-body incidents, no sir.

"I don't know. I brought her here before I left Neverland, but there is no way to know if she is still here or if she left. Or if she's alive, for that matter," his voice grew slightly sadder by the end of the sentence.

"So it's a 'she'?" Emma asked before her brain sent her mouth the order to shut the hell up.

"No need to be jealous, Swan, I still only have eyes for you," he turned around, wiggling his eyebrows and sending her a sinful smirk.

"Hook, for the life of me, I swear..."

"You have no sense of humor whatsoever, Prince. Ah, here we are. Crocodile, would you mind conjuring some light? It will be a bit too dark in there."

Gold didn't seem too amused to be reduced to lantern-man, but he stepped forward anyway and, with a flip of his hand, a ball of yellow light appeared, floating over his palm. They stopped in front of the largest of the rocks. Killian bent down and began to move some loose smaller rocks until a hole at the base of the rock was revealed. It wasn't too big, but just wide enough for a grown person to go through. He let his body slip down the hole, followed by Gold and his ball of light. A few seconds later, he told them that it was safe, so Regina, Snow, David and Emma followed.

Once down there, Emma was amazed to find out that they were actually inside a complex design of caves and tunnels disguised as simple rocks. She could hear the waves crashing into the rocks outside, but no water filtered in the caves. They followed Killian through a tunnel into another, smaller cave. There were noises coming from it. David and Emma unsheathed their swords and Snow tensed an arrow in her bow just in case, but when they turned the corner and saw who was living in the cave, the astonishment nearly caused Emma to drop her sword.

A short girl was lying in a makeshift bed made of big leaves, her eyes closed, as if she were sleeping. Her long, dirty blonde hair cascaded down her body up to her waist. She was wearing a thin green dress that was torn and practically turned into rags. From her unusually pointy ears, Emma could tell she was a pixie, too. But her appearance was so different from that of the ones they had visited in the Hollow asking for help...

Killian gently shook the girl's shoulder. "Tink? Wake up, sweetheart. Wake up, Tink."

Tinkerbell opened her eyes and looked at Killian for a few seconds, disoriented. "Hook?"

Killian smiled. "Aye," he answered, taking the pixie in his arms when she threw herself at him in a crushing hug. When he released her, she directed her big, grey eyes to the small crowd at the entrance of the cave, looking at her with equal shocked expressions. "Hi, there," she casually said, in her melodic voice.

"Uhm...care to explain what this is about, Hook?" Regina said.

"Tinkerbell and I have known each other for a long time. She was the one who provided me with a way out of Neverland. In doing so, she went against the wishes of the Queen of the Pixies, so she was... punished." Hook looked at the pixie, unsure whether to go on with his explanation.

"They cut off my wings," she said remorsefully, turning around and showing them the two large scars in her bare back. "I don't even want to think about the things they would have done to me if Hook hadn't helped me escape and brought me here. They think I'm dead and I've lived here in reclusion ever since."

"I'm so sorry," Snow said, tears in her eyes. Sometimes Emma could not understand how a person could be as compassionate as her mother was.

"It's fine," Tinkerbell answered with a sweet smile, "I'm alive, thanks to him," she said, squeezing Killian's hand in hers. Emma could not help the pang of anger at the closeness of the pirate and the pixie, so she decided to direct her attention to a rather interesting crack in the ceiling of the cave.

"So if she is the only person in this place that could be our ally, why didn't we come to her in the first place?" Gold asked.

"Because, Crocodile," Hook began, glaring daggers at the small man, "as I said, I didn't know if she would still be here, and I knew that if she went out to do a mission for us and got spotted, the pixies would have hurt her instantly, and I wasn't just going to let her risk her life just like that."

Emma's eyes shot up to Killian's. This was a side of him that she had never expected to find. He was supposed to be a ruthless, maniacal villain, not a savior of magical pixie girls. But then again, Neverland was full of surprises, right?

"Mission? Why are you back here?" Tinkerbell asked.

"My son was brought here," Emma said, stepping forward, "you don't happen by any chance to have seen him? He was with a man and a woman."

"Is his name Henry?" the pixie asked after a few seconds of pondering in silence.

Emma felt her knees almost give in. "Yes!" she exclaimed, too excited to remember not to keep her hopes up too high, "Yes, you've seen him then?"

"Yes. Not too long ago, I went to the island at night to gather provisions, and I saw a man and a dark-skinned woman camping near the Lost One's territory, they had a kid with them, gagged and with his wrists tied together. They referred to him as Henry."

No wonder they hadn't found anything. They hadn't been near the Lost One's territory yet because Killian had stated that it was too dangerous.

"Do you think he's still there?" Regina asked, eagerly.

"Probably not. But I'll be honored to fly through the island and find his location for you."

"But...if they cut off your wings..." David started, unsure, voicing Emma's exact same thought.

"I can still fly, I have some pixie dust left and, besides, it's inherent in me. Cutting off my wings was a matter of pride and honor. It's more difficult to fly without them, but I can still do it. And I would love to help you find the boy."

"Then, care to accompany us back to the ship, Tink?" Hook asked.

The pixie nodded eagerly and walked out of the cave, followed by Regina, Snow, Gold and David. Before going out, Emma turned around and fixed her eyes on Killian, only to find that he was watching her with a bright smile. Emma got the message his twinkling eyes conveyed loud and clear: _We're closer. We'll find him. _She smiled back, silently thanking him before turning back and returning to the ship.


	3. Trouble is a friend

**A/N:** still overwhelmed by the amount of followers this little thingy has. Thank you guys! This one is quite a bit longer than the previous chapters because...well, shit goes down here. Don't hate me.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing. I tried to make a deal with Rumple about that but he just keeps me on hold :(

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love  
__And it looks like we might have made it  
__Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end.  
~To the End - Blur~_

* * *

With Tinkerbell's permission, David gathered the tiny pixie-girl in his arms and carried her to the ship, seeing that she was too weak to fly and her wobbly steps probably would have caused her to slip away into the bumpy seas surrounding the rocks. It was probably due to living in seclusion in that dark and damp cave, going out only to collect provisions. She had also told them from her position against David's chest that the long trip around the island she had done the previous night was – mostly – the cause of her exhaustion.

Once on board, he took her to the crew's cabin so she could rest; and, after a(nother) heated argument featuring Regina and Gold on one side ("I can use my magic go make her stronger," "She should start searching immediately; the sooner she does, the sooner we'll find Henry!") and Killian and Snow on the other ("Don't mix your dark magic with hers, Crocodile, you'll kill her!" "The poor thing can't even stay on her feet for fifteen minutes straight and you expect her to fly to the middle of the jungle?!"), they decided to sail the ship as near to the Lost Ones' territory as possible without it being too risky during the night and, in the meantime, let Tinkerbell recover so she could fly in search for Henry the following day – the Lost Ones' MO strictly included nighttime as their business hours so it was safer to look around during the morning and afternoon.

"Are you okay there, honey?" Emma heard Snow approach from behind. She lifted her gaze from the rope she had absentmindedly been tying and untying for an undetermined period of time and smiled weakly.

"Yeah, I guess," she replied lamely.

"What's wrong?"

Emma sighed, rubbing her temple with her fingers. "I know I should be ecstatic that we finally have a kind of safer means to find Henry and that I shouldn't complain, but..."

"But we're sacrificing a whole day's time we could be spending searching," her mother finished for her.

Emma lowered her head, ashamed of the selfishness of her thoughts. "Yeah."

Snow put a warm hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. "I know... I feel useless sometimes, you know, staying here on the ship when I think we should actively be doing something else. But when I think about it, I see that Hook is right. There is nothing else we can do without endangering ourselves, and also Henry maybe, if whoever has him finds out that we are here looking for him. Hook knows this place better than any one of us and he really is taking care of us." Emma smiled at the slightly surprised tone in Snow's voice when she said those last words.

"Not what you'd have expected from him, right?"

"Not really, no," Snow conceded with a short laugh, "but he is changing. In the time we've spent here – and even before that, too, when he came back with the bean he had stolen – I've noticed he behaves differently. He really can be selfless and true when he wants to."

"Yeah, the whole "I-only-care-about-myself-and-my-revenge" thing was like a kind of armor of his, I think," Emma mused, eyes unconsciously diverting to the door that led to the Captain's quarters.

"You should know, you used to be like that too," Snow said incredibly gently, as if afraid her comment would hurt Emma or make her angry. She seemed surprised when Emma simply nodded. She had already been thinking about that too.

"I know. Before I found you, guys, I used to be just like him. That's why I told him to make the right thing and be part of our group, back in Storybrooke, I guess. And in the end he did," she didn't realize she was smiling until she saw Snow looking back at her with a knowing expression in her eyes and her lips slightly twitched upwards. "What?"

"Nothing," Snow said, with her best imitation of the Cheshire Cat. "I think I'm going to check up on Tinkerbell, that poor thing." With that, she was gone, leaving Emma once more alone with her thoughts.

* * *

"There better be an excellent reason why you took me out of bed, Gold," Emma growled sleepily, following said man towards the deck of the ship. Not only had he woken her up in the middle of the night but he'd also interrupted a very pleasant dream she was having. She didn't remember much about it now, but she could distinctly recollect dark blue eyes and the sting of alcohol in her injured hand.

"There is one indeed, Miss Swan," he simply replied.

"What are bloody hell are you doing up?" Hook shouted angrily from the helm upon seeing the pair appear. His eyes darted from Gold to Emma, and then to Gold again, glaring daggers at the man. "Why are you bringing Emma?"

"Relax, pirate, I mean no harm towards you or your precious Miss Swan," he added acidly, smirking when both Killian and Emma lowered their gazes at that strange comment, "I'm only here to instruct her to cast a protection spell, seeing that we are approaching dangerous territory."

"Why me? You and Regina have been doing it just fine all this time."

"Because, up until now, it was merely a precaution. Just in case something unwanted happened to stumble upon us. And in this place, my magic and the Queen's is weaker; my guess is that it is due to our magic being dark, and obtained by unnatural sources. You, on the other hand, being the product of True Love, were born with natural white magic in you, which should be stronger. And our chances of being spotted by the Lost Ones or the Shadow increase as we sail towards their location, so we need a powerful protection spell. Hence, you're the one who is going to cast it."

Emma's eyes flickered momentarily towards Killian. She didn't know if he was aware of her magical properties, seeing that the only time she had done any magic in front of him, he had been unconscious. _He really does spend a lot of time being unconscious. God, Emma, focus!_ He, however, seemed pensive and distant, fingers distractedly caressing his chin.

"You mean like the one I cast in your shop against Regina and Cora? But there's no invisible magic chalk here..."

"I was aware of that," Gold snapped, making Emma's hand burn with the urge to slap the little man, "but you won't need it. We're in a land that is magical in itself, so no magical triggers are required. Just focus on this ship, on the people on it, focus on how much you want and need to keep them away from the dangers that surround us. Concentrate, Miss Swan."

Emma closed her eyes and did as she was told. She conjured an image of the Jolly Roger in her mind, as detailed as possible, trying not to forget any part of the ship; then she thought of her parents, of Regina, Gold and Tinkerbell, of herself and Killian. When the image of the pirate appeared in her head as clear as if she was seeing him in real life, she felt a rush of power shoot through her whole body before being released in the palms of her hands. She instinctively raised her hands and, opening her eyes, saw a ray of white light coming from each of them and forming an invisible barrier around the ship, like a bubble. Once it was done, Gold tried shooting a small ball of fire; it hit against the barrier and disintegrated. He hummed, pleased, and nodded curtly at Emma and Killian before turning around and going back to his cabin without saying a word.

There was a pregnant pause that lasted a few seconds but felt like entire hours. "So...are we getting nearer?" Emma asked awkwardly.

Killian had been staring at her, transfixed, since Gold left, but seemed taken out of his reverie when she spoke. "Yes. It will be dawn in a couple of hours and once the sun goes up, Tinkerbell will be able to do an exploration of the Lost One's territory."

"What should we do while she's out there?"

"Prepare ourselves for a long journey through the forest, so we can start immediately after her return in case she is successful."

"Oh," she replied weakly, stifling a yawn. Casting that spell had made her feel all the more tired.

"Go back to sleep, lass," Killian said softly. "You're exhausted."

"So are you," Emma pointed out, reaching out her hand to brush her fingertip against the dark bags under Killian's eyes. She saw his closed eyes snap wide open when she touched him and a current of electricity travelled from her hand all the way to her chest. _Emma, what in the name of God are you doing?!_

Suddenly, with all her exhaustion and stress weighting her down, her eyelids felt like lead and she decided to stop trying to keep them open. She vaguely felt something solid and warm against her and the feeling of gravity leaving her as she was lifted.

She woke up the following morning in her bunk, wrapped in Killian's heavy leather coat.

* * *

"So, did you find anything?" Regina asked even though Tinkerbell was still several feet away from the ship.

The pixie landed on deck and everyone instantly surrounded her, waiting for news.

"Yes," she finally said, beaming, and Emma let out a relieved and ecstatic laugh. She felt her parents pulling her in for a brief hug, and distantly acknowledged the one or two tears that had escaped their prison and were running free down her face.

"Where, Tink?" Killian asked.

"By the Silver Stream, about a mile north the Drown Man's Cove."

Killian nodded. "If we head off now, we should arrive there a couple of hours before sunset."

"Is it a dangerous place?" Snow asked.

"It's not far away from the Lost Ones territory, but also not near enough for us to be truly exposed there. We'll have to be very careful, though."

"Let's get going, then," David said, leading the way down the gangplank. Emma felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest. She really was only hours away from seeing her son again. Suddenly, Killian was next to her; the fingers of his only hand entwining briefly with hers and caressing them before releasing them and going down as well. For a glorious moment, she believed that everything was finally clicking back into place.

She should have known better.

Hours later, they were preparing to settle for the night inside a big cave conveniently covered by leaves and plants by the stream of silvery blue water. The hopeful and bright mood that had taken over the group had quickly disappeared upon arriving at the place Tinkerbell had directed them to and seeing that there was nothing there, not even a hint that could indicate the trail Greg and Tamara had left when they'd taken Henry.

"They probably sensed that someone was watching them and took off. I should have been more careful. This is probably my fault. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" The pixie had apologized over and over again. Killian had tried to calm her down, assuring her that it wasn't her fault, while Emma busied herself with casting yet another protection spell around their cave in order not to let despair take a toll on her and break her down completely. She briefly remembered that time when she told Henry that giving someone false hope and taking it away from them was one of the worst things. The memory brought a pang of pain to her chest. She'd been right.

Still guilt-ridden, Tinkerbell claimed that she would start searching again in order not to make everyone lose more time, and with no further ado, disappeared above the top of the Neverland trees.

Nightfall soon claimed the land and they decided that it would be best to rest and resume their search on foot the following morning, taking shifts to watch the camp just in case. When it was Emma's turn, she welcomed it. She very much preferred to spend hours awake, sitting alone in the entrance of the cold cave trying to count the stars to distract herself than being asleep and going back to her dreams of Henry screaming for help, crying, pleading for mercy...

Something moved between the trees in front of her. Emma stood up and unsheathed her sword as quietly as possible, waiting. A few seconds later, a very much shaken-up Tinkerbell appeared.

"Emma!" she whispered when she stopped a few feet away from her. She couldn't come any closer due to Emma's protection spell. "I've seen him! We have to hurry up before they take him away again!"

"Where?" Emma asked, whispering back.

"A little too far away from here, you'll have to fly with me if we want to make it on time and not come across any Lost One."

"Okay, let me tell Killian..."

"NO!", the pixie cut her, managing to shout while still whispering. "You have to come alone, it's the only way."

Emma was starting to get a little weary. Something seemed to be off. "Why?"

"Because, honey... Greg and Tamara don't have Henry anymore. The Shadow does."

Emma actually felt how the blood abandoned her and had to bury her sword in the soft ground and hold onto it to steady herself and not faint. "Is he in danger?"

"Yes, that's why we have to get to him as soon as possible. And I only have pixie dust for one person, the others would delay us. Plus, if the Shadow sees them, it won't hesitate to kill them all," the pixie said, horror taking over her gentle features.

"Okay," Emma agreed finally, and, with a little effort, was able to go through her own barrier – Gold had told her that she was able to do so as she had been the one who had cast the spell in the first place. "How do we do this?"

Tinkerbell rubbed her hands together until a few golden sparks appeared from the friction. She put her palms up in front of her face. "Think of something that makes you happy. A person, a memory, anything. But it has to make you very happy in order to make this work," the pixie instructed before blowing the sparks gently towards Emma.

The woman closed her eyes as she felt the golden sparks caress her body and ignite her senses. She thought of her mom and dad, of Henry, of his face of pure joy when she came up from the well with Snow after their long time in the Enchanted Forest, his gorgeous hazel eyes, then another pair of eyes –bluer–, a scruffy chin tickling the skin of her injured hand, a hand extending towards her, asking for her trust, promising so many things she was scared of, a ship in the distance coming back when she needed it the most...

She didn't realize she was floating several feet above the ground until her head unceremoniously hit the upper branch of a tall tree. She opened her eyes to find an excited Tinkerbell smiling at her and motioning for her to follow. Emma leaned forward so her body was almost parallel to the floor and took off after the pixie.

It really was indescribable, the feeling of flying. Despite the gnawing concern about Henry's welfare, about the many things that could harm them, about the guilty feeling of leaving everyone behind her and going out alone, the soft Neverland breeze brought her a feeling akin to peace. For a brief moment, she truly felt free.

She and Tinkerbell travelled for about an hour until the pixie came to a halt and motioned Emma towards an ordinary-looking tree that stood a little bit apart from the rest of the other foliage at the edge of the jungle. According to the maps Killian had shown them, she guessed they were at the opposite side of the Lost Ones' territory. The same trek on foot would have taken them all night.

"The Shadow has him in there, I saw them," Tinkerbell whispered, pointing at the tree while they slowly started to land not far away from it.

Emma's feet hit the ground with a soft thud and she had to get hold of a nearby trunk to regain balance. Flying had left a weird sensation all over her. "Okay, we get into the tree, get Henry and then fly back to camp. What if the Shadow catches us?"

"I've seen and sensed your magic, Emma, and it's powerful and pure enough to fight the Shadow if it comes after us. Just in case... here," she said, holding out a small, brown contraption she'd produced from one of the pockets of her short dress. "I coated this with some more pixie dust, put it on and it will enhance your magic."

It wasn't until Emma had grabbed the thing Tinkerbell was giving her that she realized it was a leather cuff. Her heart gave a small flutter in her chest. It was _the_ leather cuff.

"Where...?" Her voice wavered, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "Where did you take that from?"

"Hook had it," the pixie said simply.

He had kept the beanstalk cuffs?! After how badly they had left things up there? Emma had lost hers during the creepy zombies' attack, and she remembered the strange heartache she had felt when she realized she didn't have it anymore. Because an enchanted object could be useful, not because it reminded her of Killian, of course. That was not the case at all.

Emma took the cuff and put it on. Tinkerbell walked to the tree and, using a small dagger to cut off the foliage growing at the base of it – _Where the hell had the pixie hidden a dagger? _–, she revealed a secret entrance. Turning back and nodding to Emma, she quickly disappeared through it. Emma swallowed thickly before following.

They were in an underground room, quite similar to the system of tunnels and caves in Killian's hiding place, but smaller. Emma turned around in one corner and almost dropped on her knees at the sight: Henry, her baby boy, was there, sitting on the ground, his back against the wooden wall, sound asleep. He was really there.

"Henry," Emma exclaimed in a strangled voice. She ran to him and gently shook his arm to wake him up. Nothing happened. "Henry, it's me. It's Emma. Henry, it's mom, wake up. We have to go, wake up!" Still nothing.

Desperate, Emma turned around, intending to ask Tinkerbell for help. She found the pixie staring at them with cold and calculating eyes. Her features had hardened considerably. Emma had a very bad feeling.

"Tinkerbell, he's not waking up."

"He won't," the pixie said, a calmed and neutral tone in her usually deep and musical voice.

"Wh-what do you mean? Help me take him out of here before the Shadow comes..."

"It won't come."

Emma's tempered began to flare. "Okay, miss pixie, you better tell me what the hell is happening to my son and why you're so sure the Shadow won't come or so help me..."

"What are you going to do to me?" the pixie interrupted, malicious amusement coating her voice.

Emma balled her fists, her whole body trembling with magic that was bursting inside her, looking for a way out...only it couldn't.

"What the hell?" she muttered, unable to control herself.

"Your magic tricks won't do you any good anymore, my darling. That cuff you're wearing blocks it all away. You're defenseless."

Emma's heart dropped as the realization sank in: she had been set up. But if the cuff blocked her magic, and it had been Killian's...

"I know what you're thinking. No, Hook didn't betray you. Greg and Tamara had it when they brought Henry to the Shadow, and I took the liberty of keeping it."

"Where are they now?" Emma asked, despite knowing she wouldn't like the answer.

Tinkerbell shrugged. "Dead." Yeah, she had guessed correctly. She didn't like it one bit.

"And now you're turning me in to the Shadow? You'll let it kill me and Henry?"

"Not exactly. You see, dear," her saccharine smile twisted the pixie's face in a grotesque way, "_I control the Shadow_. And I need you both very much alive. For now."

Well, that had been quite unexpected.

"What about Pan?"

Tinkerbell laughed. It was a sound that turned Emma's blood cold. "He doesn't exist. Well, not anymore. I killed him a long time ago, but as nobody had ever seen his face before, they don't even notice that I took his place and the Shadow responds to me. After all, who would ever suspect of the weak pixie that is supposed to be dead?"

"What do you want from Henry? Or from me?"

Tinkerbell's smirk was evil as she slowly walked closer to her. "You've already been to the Hollow, so you've got a glimpse of my kind. Pixies are very resentful creatures, and they can be quite unforgiving and harsh. They didn't take too well my assistance to your beloved pirate – yes, girl, don't try to hide it anymore – and I was severely punished for my innocent kindness. I was forced to live like a pariah because Hook took pity of me and hid me so they wouldn't hurt me anymore. But as I said, we are resentful, and I never forgot or forgave the injustice with which I was treated by my own sisters. Once I was forced to being separated from them, I started seeing more clearly, seeing their many flaws: they claim themselves as the lawful rulers of the land but they consider themselves too superior to mix with Pan's and the Shadow's business and protect Neverland from them. They fancy themselves as kind, perfect creatures but didn't hesitate to ruin the life of one of their own for helping a human. I wanted to overthrow them from their make-believe position of power, but in order to do so, I needed magic. A kind of magic more powerful than theirs."

Emma started to back away as Tinkerbell approached her in the way a lioness approaches its cornered prey.

"I soon found out that Pan was sending the Shadow and the Lost Ones in search of a boy, a boy that was the key in his plan, whichever it was, because he would act as a bait to attract one of the most powerful sources of magic known in all the realms." Her crazed eyes travelled from Henry's form to Emma's. "After I got rid of Pan, I decided to follow the basics of his original plan. It took some time, but I finally have what I wanted here." She laughed again and shook her head. "That stupid man and woman thought that by bringing the boy, they would be helping me destroy magic. But I don't plan to destroy your magic, Emma. I mean to take it, and use it to finally rule this gods forsaken place completely. Your magic, and his," she pointed to Henry's unconscious form with her head.

"Henry has magic?!"

"He's not the product of True Love himself, but you are, and he has your blood. Besides, he's been in contact with the magic performed by two of the most powerful sorcerers that have ever existed. He's quite the diamond in the rough."

"Why is he like that? What are you doing to him?" Emma yelled, her heart racing in her chest and her head throbbing in pain. It was all too much to take in in such a short amount of time, and she couldn't see a way out of this.

"It's a little curse that keeps him asleep while waiting for the latent magic within him to manifest. Once it does, it will leave him and I will absorb it. You can wake him up, of course," her smirk widened, "by submitting yourself to the same curse and bringing him back."

"And while I'm under, you'll take my magic as well, won't you?"

"You catch up quickly, Emma."

Emma sighed and glanced at her son's form against the wall. He looked so peaceful. But if he was cursed, who knows what he was actually going through. He could be in pain or something worse.

"And if I don't break that curse before you drain all my magic?"

"You both die. Fortunately for you, the curse works quite slowly, and seeing how much power you have, it will take quite some time to complete its purpose, probably days or even weeks. But well, nothing is perfect," the pixie commented offhandedly, rubbing her palms again, but this time producing red and black sparks that she blew over Emma's face before the woman could react. Soon enough, everything around her disappeared and was replaced by utter darkness.

* * *

At that moment, Killian woke up with a start, almost hitting his head with the low ceiling of the cave in the process. His breath was labored, an overwhelming feeling of uneasiness and despair invaded his chest. Something was wrong, so very wrong. He scanned his surroundings and found everyone sound asleep.

Everyone except Emma.

* * *

**So...yeah. I just did that. Don't get me wrong, I ADORE Tinkerbell (and I'm really excited to see her in OUAT, I think Rose McIver is going to be amazing) but since we found out about dark!Neverland, I've had the headcanon that Tinkerbell is a big fat bitch involved in all that...and I kinda made her a bigger fatter bitch :)**


	4. Any other world

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. I'd love to own a Killian Jones, though.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love  
And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~ To the End - Blur ~_

* * *

Emma woke up stretching her limbs and humming sleepily, random images of a half-remembered dream dancing lazily in her brain. Reluctant to enter the realm of wakefulness completely just yet, she turned around and buried her face in one of her pillows.

Wait, pillows?

Everything came back to her, the memories hitting her like a ton of bricks. The false lead to the cave. The false hope. Flying through the Neverland sky. Seeing her son under a curse. Tinkerbell's face contorted with maniac hatred and malice.

Tinkerbell. What a little bitch.

Emma wanted to kick herself repeatedly on the ass for being so naïve and trusting the damn pixie. She had sensed that something was off the minute Tinkerbell had been so insistent in her going alone without telling the others. But then, her mind and soul had been invaded with concern for Henry's wellbeing as he was supposedly under the Shadow's hands, so she hadn't stopped to consider the implications of the pixie's request. Besides, she had never found a reason to doubt her, especially seeing that Killian trusted her...

Emma's heart panged painfully in her chest when she realized that, normally, she would instantly have suspected that Killian was involved in Tinkerbell's dark schemes and that he had played along with them all the time as well. But she didn't believe that for one second. She knew better. He had proved himself to be worthy of her trust many a time now.

She vaguely registered being laying in a soft, comfortable surface, covered in blankets and surrounded by pillows. That was what had made her realize that she had actually fallen under the infamous curse. She opened her eyes slowly and confirmed that she was, in fact, lying on a bed. A quick scan of her surroundings made her gasp in astonishment.

She was in her room in her and Mary Margaret's apartment.

The delicate, homemade quilt, the brick walls, the vintage furniture. Everything was still the same. She went to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Apart from the shock reflected in her eyes and in her perpetually dropped jaw, she looked the same. Well, also a little run-down from over a month of traipsing a jungle and living in a ship without as much access to hot water as she'd like.

_Am I dreaming?_

Tentatively, never taking her eyes off her reflection, her right hand reached her left forearm and she pinched hard.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

_Well, apparently it's not a dream_, she mused, watching the red marks that would soon leave a bruise on her skin. Fuck.

Oddly enough, a quote from one of her favorite books came to her head with great clarity.

"'Is this real, or is it happening inside my head?'

'Of course it's happening inside your head! But why on Earth should that mean that it's not real?'"

She had started reading the Harry Potter books shortly after the first ones came out. She was a teenager then, but she still had felt like she could relate to Harry in a certain way: both orphans, both unwanted. Now, she remembered those similarities between them with a bittersweet laugh. _Both of us Saviors. The boy who lived and the girl who escaped to another realm through a wardrobe. But in the end he succeeded and saved the magical world, while I couldn't even protect my son._

After an extremely long and steamy – and definitely needed – shower, Emma was very tempted to crawl back into bed and keep enjoying the comfort that she had oh so missed during the whole journey, but she stopped short when she remembered that time was running out. Not only for her, but for Henry too.

She opened her wardrobe and found that all her clothes were still there. She changed into a pair of jeans, her faithful knee-high leather boots and her even more faithful burgundy leather jacket –the one she had worn during her time in the Enchanted Forest with Mary Margaret...and Killian – and decided to inspect the rest of the apartment.

Everything looked the same, except for one detail.

There were no pictures anywhere.

Her mother's photo albums were gone, and so were the portrait of both of them together that usually sat on her bedside table and the one of her with Henry. Emma gulped. What could this possibly mean?

Stepping out to the streets, she confirmed what she had already been suspecting: she was in Storybrooke. However, the town seemed to have an atmosphere of quietness that made Emma uneasy. Since she didn't know what day it was or what time it was (it was a cloudy day, so she couldn't even make a wild guess based on the Sun's position), she started walking down the street in search of a familiar face or, actually, anything that may help her. Seeing that there was always someone eating at Granny's and Red was Snow's best friend, it seemed like the best place to start. Heading towards the diner, she failed to notice that the clock tower was, once again, permanently stuck at 8:15.

The little restaurant was just the way Emma remembered it. There were only three or four scattered costumers eating what seemed to be a late lunch or starting earlier with their after-work beer. Neither Red nor Granny was in sight.

Emma sat on the counter, a couple of stools away from a man drinking a beer whose back was turned to her. He must have sensed her stare because he turned towards her and Emma recognized the balding head and the scruffy chin of the short man.

"Whatcha looking at, sister?" he snapped at her, not even trying to hide his rudeness.

"Leroy? What is g...?"

"Who are you, blondie? How the hell do you know my name?"

Emma stared at him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish, unable to form a coherent word for a few moments.

"It's sewn on your overalls," she said weakly. Thank goodness he was wearing his work uniform. Otherwise, it would have quite an uncomfortable situation. Well, more uncomfortable that the current situation, that is.

Emma was saved by the bell just then, when a cheerful voice asked from behind the counter "What can I get you?"

When Emma turned towards the owner of that voice, she already had an idea of what she would find, considering what had happened so far since she woke up in this place, but it was still a little shocking to see Red back in her full Ruby attire: over-the-top make up, thick red streaks mixing with her black hair, and clothes so small and tight that would almost correspond to another completely different kind of job.

"Uhm...hot cocoa with cinnamon, please." For a moment, she was really tempted to make it Irish. She felt she'd need the booze. But Irish coffee –or cocoa– made her think of Killian, and the memories of him and their partnership in Neverland made her heart feel heavy inside her.

"Coming right up!" With that, Ruby disappeared to what Emma assumed was the kitchen. The woman turned around to notice that Leroy was gone now, and she didn't know the other costumers.

While waiting for her cocoa, Emma started to organize her thoughts and devise a plan of action. She was in Storybrooke; that was for sure. Judging by Leroy's and Ruby's reactions – or their lack of recognition, at least – towards her, nobody knew her here and they still had their cursed personalities. She needed to find Henry, but she was a stranger to the people in the town, she couldn't just go asking where to find a little boy without being considered a pervert or a creep. She had to find someone who could help her, someone she could trust...

"Here you go," exclaimed Ruby, placing the mug of cocoa in front of Emma. The sweet scent coming from the steamy beverage already was helping her relax.

"Thanks," she managed, with a small smile.

"Are you ok? You seem to be a little upset," Ruby asked, lifting her thickly lined eyebrows.

"Yeah, just...doing some thinking."

"You're new in town, aren't you? I don't remember having seen you around before."

Emma took a long gulp of cocoa, steadying herself before answering. "Yeah, I'm looking for an old friend. She was living here last time I heard from her. Mary Margaret Blanchard. Do you know her?" Her tone was neutral, keeping her hopes and fears at bay.

Ruby tapped her chin with the pen she was holding a few times, deep in thought. "No, I can't say that I have. Sorry."

_Fuck._

"She works as an elementary teacher...at least that's what she told me last time I talked to her," she added quickly. She needed to stick up to her story in order not to raise suspicions. "I guess that if she already married her boyfriend, her name is Mary Margaret Nolan now."

"No honey, I've lived here my whole life and I've never met anyone called Mary Margaret or having the family name Nolan. Sorry," she gave Emma an apologetic smile and left her to wait a table.

Good thing she did so, because Emma didn't feel like crying in front of a stranger-but-not-really-one.

She wiped away the lonesome tear that broke free from her lashes and gulped down the rest of her cocoa, trying to calm herself down. No wonder there were no pictures of Snow in the apartment. Emma hadn't search thoroughly, but she guessed that if she did, she'd find none of her mother's possessions there. Because she didn't exist in this reality. And neither did her father.

Loneliness was not a foreign feeling for Emma Swan, but she had never, in her twenty-nine years of existence, felt more alone than now.

Throwing a five dollar note at the counter, she left the diner and headed to the police station. It was very far-fetched, even for this twisted alternative universe or whatever the hell it was, but maybe...just maybe, he would be there.

Opening the glass door of the sheriff office as if she'd owned the place –which she kind of did, but only in the real world, not here – she stood frozen, hand still in the doorknob, looking at the man in front of her.

"May I help you, Miss? Sheriff Dartbas, but you can call me Claude," despite the professional words, the tone of the stranger's voice and his unashamed leer were anything but professional.

"No, sorry. I thought you'd be someone else," Emma said weakly, before leaving as abruptly as she had arrived. _Stupid, stupid Emma. This is a freaking curse, of course it's not gonna be nice and easy. Of course he's not going to be here._

But the truth is that she would have loved to see him at least once again, even if it was in this damn oneiric place, or whatever the hell the deal was with it.

A couple of hours later, Emma sat on a bench in the park to rest her sore feet – unfortunately, there was no yellow Bug or any other kind of vehicle at her disposal in this world – and muse over what she'd seen. So far she'd also spotted Mother Superior coming out of the church, Doctor Whale flirting with a nurse, and a couple more dwarves clocking out of their jobs. She'd gone to the place where Gold's pawn shop was supposed to be but it was an abandoned building. She'd approached the town limit and found no line sprayed on the pavement.

So far, things didn't look very promising.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the image of a little boy walking a Dalmatian. From the distance, Emma could only see his mop of brown hair, but when she heard him yell "Pongo! Wait!" she gasped and jumped from her seat. The sound of Henry's voice was like a balsam spreading love through her body. Before her mind could process what she was doing, she started walking fast towards him, almost jogging.

"Henry!" she exclaimed, full of joy, a wide grin on her face.

The boy stood still when he heard her calling his name, and it wasn't until Emma came to a halt in front of him that she registered the puzzled look in his face.

"Who are you?"

_No. _

_No, no, no._

"Henry, it's me, Emma," she all but pleaded, feeling her eyes burn with tears.

"I don't know you. I have to go now. Come, Pongo," clearly freaked out, he turned around, tugging the dog's lease.

"Henry please, I'm Emma, your mom!" She put her hand on Henry's shoulder, and he instantly jerked away from her touch.

"Get away from me, lady! I don't know you, leave me alone!" he screamed.

"HENRY! Are you OK?" another familiar female voice exclaimed. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Emma watched as Regina quickly approached them and grasped Henry's shoulders gently, telling him to go wait inside their car. Without even looking back at her, the kid walked away with Pongo.

"Who the hell do you think you are and what are you doing talking to my son?" Regina asked Emma, her anger barely concealed.

"I'm Emma. I'm his...birth mom." Keeping her voice steady was proving to be harder and harder.

The dark-haired woman looked at her with wide eyes but, before she was able to reply, another person interrupted them. "Honey, is everything alright?"

At this point, Emma felt the last of her sanity leave her and had to make a conscious and extremely hard effort not to break into a hysteric laughter at the sight of Neal embracing Regina's waist and looking at her with puppy eyes full of concern and love. It kinda hurt that in the time they'd been together, he had never looked at her the way other-Neal was looking at other-Regina.

"This lady here is harassing Henry and claiming to be his birth mother," Regina told him, voice full of venom.

Neal examined Emma for a few moments as if she was a nasty boil.

"Okay, lady, here's the thing," he said, glaring daggers at Emma, "I don't know what the deal with you is and I really don't care, but I don't want you near my family ever again, or I'm going to throw you in jail. Let's go, honey." With that, they both turned around and went away in the same direction Henry had left ten minutes ago. Even though they were several feet away from her, Emma could still hear Neal's mocking laugh and his "Can you believe that crazy bitch?"

She didn't know how much time had passed until her muscles responded and she awoke from her semi-petrified state.

Henry didn't know her. And worse, he was _scared_ of her.

Cora's hand squeezing her heart had hurt less than that.

She had limited time to save her son and herself from Tinkerbell's curse, and how was she supposed to do it if Henry didn't remember her? It would be extremely hard to see him again, especially because Emma figured that after that little scene, Regina and Neal would be watching the kid like a hawk, making sure she wouldn't come close to him again.

Feeling completely defeated, she headed back to the apartment. As she was not paying attention to her surroundings, she almost fell to the ground when someone collapsed with her. Okay, that was the last straw. Her nerves on edge, she was ready to give this person quite an earful, but she stopped short, frozen, when he - it was a man - spoke to her. "Sorry! Are you alright, lass?"


	5. Different

**A/N:** Thank you SO FREAKING MUCH for the reviews, reads, and follows! You're all awesome :) now, remember I said that the whole idea for this fic came from an actual dream I had? well, you've seen some of the stuff from my dream in the last chapter and some more in this one. I hope you like it!  
**Disclaimer:** Ugh, nope.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End - Blur~_

* * *

"Sorry! Are you alright, lass?"

After everything that Emma had experienced that day, she really shouldn't have been as utterly flabbergasted as she was when she heard _his_ voice. Of all the things she would have expected – or not – from this world, this was definitely not it. Despite how much it had hurt, Emma was not as freaked out as she could have been when she learned about her parents or Graham because, deep down, she had accepted beforehand that it was highly probable that they wouldn't be here. But this...this was truly surprising. What business did he have in her curse, anyway?

For excruciatingly long seconds, she stared at the simple light-blue cotton t-shirt that covered his chest, unprepared to look up. Uncertain if she'd like what she might find. _Who are you kidding? Of course you'd like it_, said a tiny and snarky voice in her head that, oddly enough, reminded her of one of Cinderella's mean step-sisters from the movie.

"Uhm...lass?" it was the uncertainty in his voice and the softer timber than the one she was so used to that made her head shoot up.

Oh, boy.

Her eyes roamed his face, taking in every little detail that was Killian but _wasn't_ him. Hair a little longer than she was used to seeing him with, but neatly combed to the side. Clean-shaven cheeks, which gave Emma the feeling that his face looked strangely naked without the permascruff. Actually, the lack of facial hair made him look much younger and gave him an air of boyish innocence, so different from the "dangerous and dashing pirate" look that he usually sported. It also brought out his pointy chin and wide and plump lips. Clear, haunting blue eyes that stood out even without the black kohl and were fixed on her with concern and shock.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped, still unable to process the sight in front of her.

"Excuse me? I don't...know you?" he asked, more confused than angry. He looked like a disoriented Husky puppy.

Emma shook her head, clearing her thoughts. It was not fair to snap at Killian – or not-Killian – especially when he was watching at her with that wounded expression. She sighed. "No, I'm sorry. It's just... For a moment there I thought you were someone else."

That was a lie. Or maybe not a lie, but not a complete truth either. She really hoped this Killian's ability to read her like a book wouldn't as accurate as the original Killian's, because, what explanation could she possibly give him? "Oh, hey there, I thought you were an innuendo-loving pirate with a fetish for leather and a hook for a hand, and I'm slightly disappointed that you are him but you really _aren't_"?

Yeah, that wouldn't go very well.

"Oh...is that good or bad?" he asked, with a small smile. She blinked twice, not sure she understood what he meant, so he went on explaining. "I mean, you know sometimes something reminds you of a person who you'd rather forget or not think about, and sometimes they trigger happy memories...and I don't really know why I am telling you all this when you don't even know me," he said with an apologetic smile, looking at the ground. He was clearly embarrassed and Emma suddenly felt the urge to make him feel better.

"Don't worry, it's not bad. You just reminded me of someone I miss," Emma was surprised that her casual comment was actually the truth. She had separated from the group less than 24 hours ago and, still, she missed Killian. She missed manning the helm under his amazed gaze, their playful banter and honest talks, the furtive brushes of their hands when they walked side by side. Maybe that was why she felt so lonely and hopeless in this new world. And maybe this not-Killian guy could be the help that she needed.

"I'm Eric...Davidson," he awkwardly introduced himself after a heavy pause. "And to answer your question, I was just going to my shop after grabbing a bite at Granny's."

Emma's face broke into what felt like her first heartfelt smile in weeks. "I'm Emma," she replied. "Sorry for being so rude. It was not a good day and I'm just on my last nerve."

"Don't worry. Sorry for bumping into you," his eyes scanned her body, but not in a sexual way; it was more as if he was trying to see if he had done any damage to her. "Your hands are shaking."

If he hadn't brought that up, Emma wouldn't have noticed, lost a she was in Kill- Eric. During her brief encounter with him, all thoughts about Henry's rejection, Regina's wrath and Neal's threat had drifted to a distant corner of her brain. It seemed that even in what was obviously his cursed personality; he managed to make her feel better. But now that he mentioned it, her heart started hammering as a growing feeling of guilt settled in her chest. _You're supposed to be finding a way to save your son from a curse, Emma, not flirting with some sort of church choirboy version of Captain Hook!_

"I should...probably go," she said weakly, starting to back away from him and the sudden glint of hurt in his too-blue eyes.

"Listen, you look like you're about to have a nervous breakdown and my shop's a couple of blocks away. Come and drink a glass of water, then when you're feeling better I'll drive you home, okay?" his voice was more determined than what Emma had heard from him so far.

"Why would you do that?" she whispered, her voice too broken to speak any louder.

Eric blushed – he actually _blushed_ – and locked his pleading eyes with hers. "I don't know. I just want to help you." Emma's breath hitched. There was nothing but utter sincerity in his answer.

"Okay. Lead the way," she said.

His whole face lit up and his grin was so breathtaking that Emma had to look away.

"Let's go then," he said, and started walking in the direction he was heading before bumping into Emma. She noticed with a smile that they were approaching the harbor.

Her smile grew wider when, a couple of minutes later, he opened the door of a small establishment that sported a helm on its windowpane and motioned for her to come in.

The place was small, but tidy and well-organized. There was a mahogany counter with a vintage cash register on top of it. On the wall behind it, several shelves exhibited a rather impressive display of model ships (from old vessels similar to the Jolly Roger to battle ships), ropes, wood polisher, maps, compasses, fuel, books about sailing, and several artifacts that Emma didn't recognize, but which must have belonged to more modern boats, or so she guessed.

"Your shop is very nice," she told him. He bowed, accepting the compliment.

"Thanks. Do you know anything about sailing?"

"A little bit, yeah." She smirked a little. "I may not know all the technical argot but I'd say I can sail pretty well." She had sailed Killian's ship for the last time only two days ago, but it already feel like another lifetime. A weird nostalgia took over her while recalling the cool Neverland breeze on her face, the easiness with which the ship turned under her command, Killian's hand on hers over the pegs of the helm... She turned to Eric and found him staring at her with awe. "What about you? Well, you must know a lot about sailing because of the shop, but do you have a boat?"

He squirmed a little, looking uneasy again and scratching the back of his neck. "No, uhm...actually, the shop is just a family business. I don't sail, I get seasick."

_Of course you do_, Cinderella's-mean-stepsister's voice rang in her head.

"Oh," she replied lamely.

"I'll go get you a glass of water," Eric said to break (yet another) awkward silence. He was heading to the door at the back of the shop when he stopped in his tracks. "Unless...you want something stronger, maybe?"

"Do you have any rum, pirate?" she jested lightly, trying to ease the atmosphere. He seemed like a sweet guy, but he was the complete opposite of her pirate.

Wait.

_Her_ pirate?

"Fresh out, sorry," he played along. "I do have some Baileys, if you want." Suddenly his eyes widened in panic. "Please, don't think that I'm trying to get you drunk," he added, flustered. It was a little amusing to see Captain Hook flustered. Well, this version of him, at least. Emma raised an eyebrow at him. "I just thought that maybe you'd like it...stupid me."

Emma smiled reassuringly. She normally would have found that insecurity quite annoying in a guy, but in this case, it was actually kind of endearing. Maybe because it was Killian. Or, well, Eric.

"Don't worry, I didn't think that for a second." At that, he let go a breath he had been holding. "Baileys sounds pretty good, thank you."

He disappeared through the back door only to come back a couple of minutes later with two small glasses and a half-empty bottle of the liquor, handling everything dexterously in his right hand. Emma then noticed that he wore a prosthetic on the left side. He poured some for her and handed her the glass before helping himself some. He raised his glass to her and drank a generous amount of the Irish cream.

"So... Care to tell me what is troubling you, lass? I hear it helps to talk about it," he smiled gently at her.

"It's long, and complicated," she said, taking a swig of her drink, the texture of the liquor and the alcohol pleasantly soothing and burning her throat at the same time.

"I'm a good listener."

"You'd think I'm insane," Emma countered back, shaking her head.

"Try me," he said with a smirk.

"I mean it. If I tell you the whole thing, you'll probably run away from me so fast there'd be an Eric-shaped hole on the front wall of this place." They both laughed at her poor attempt of a joke. He seemed pleasantly surprised that Emma had used his name, and, if she was being honest, so was she.

"I really don't think I'd do that," he replied, looking down when her widened eyes met his, a faint shade of pink tinting his cheeks. He quickly cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Anyway, it hurts me that you won't tell me, you know," he said in a jesting tone, but Emma noted his concealed disappointment. He was not really Killian, but he still was a version of him and she could read him well too.

"Maybe some other time," she said, aware of what she was implying. He caught it too, because his eyebrows rose and his mouth curled slightly upwards. "I'd better go now. Thanks for the drink," she said, standing up from her chair.

He stood up too. "Shall I give you a ride?"

"No, don't worry, I'll walk. The place I'm staying in is quite close."

"Okay." He bit his lower lip, drawing Emma's attention to his mouth. She quickly lifted her gaze to his eyes before he noticed. "Will I see you soon?"

She smiled. "Yeah. See you around, Eric. And thanks, really," she said, honestly.

"Glad I could help," he said, walking her to the door of the shop and extending his hand for her to shake.

She took it with no hesitation. The moment their skin made contact, she felt a jolt of some kind, a sensation she couldn't quite place, shooting up from their joined hands throughout her whole body. Looking up at him, she saw his slight frown and the surprise in his eyes. For a fleeting second, Emma thought that maybe Eric would go back to being Killian, but then, he shook his head and let go of her hand. "Take care, Emma," he said with a fond smile, and she had to suppress a shiver from the way he said her name.

Back in the apartment, Emma went straight to bed, the emotional exhaustion of the day taking its toll on her. Before she drifted completely into slumber, images of Eric's face and smile invaded her mind.

That night, she had the most peaceful sleep she had had in a long time.

* * *

**Yep, this is the way I dreamed cursed!Killian. About his personality...in most of the fics I've read in which Killian is cursed, his Storybrooke personality is still much like the real him: cocky, arrogant, confident. I figured that it should be quite the opposite, as it had happened to cursed Snow and Charming, for example.**

**Thanks a lot to my soulmatey Carmina for giving me the idea for Eric's occupation! (the nautical shop with the helm on the window pane can be seen in episode 1x02) :D**

**Please Review! Until next time, dearies.**


	6. Battle in me

**A/N:** Thanks so much for all the reviews, follows and favorites! I'm so glad you liked Eric, I was afraid you wouldn't! Without further ado, the next chapter. If there are any mistakes, forgive me, I didn't proofread it too well because I'm too stunned and happy about COLIN O'DONOGHUE BEING A BABY DADDY! I did not see that one coming.  
**Disclaimer:** If only.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End - Blur~_

* * *

_Gods be damned._

Killian splashed some fresh water from the stream on his face, in an attempt to calm himself down a bit and prevent himself from running his sword and hook through his companions. Behind him, he could still hear four people fully invested in a heated argument, but couldn't make up what they were saying. Not that he really cared.

They knew nothing.

The constant fighting had been going on for hours now, pretty much since he woke everybody up to tell them that Emma was missing. The uneasiness that settled in his chest when he abruptly woke up and noticed that Swan was nowhere to be seen became stronger now that his mind went over and over again that simple idea.

_Emma is missing._

* * *

_The fire had extinguished, but that's not what woke him up. An indescribable feeling of something akin to despair ran through his veins. He knew that danger was approaching. If it hadn't arrived already, that was. _

_His eyes scanned his surroundings. It was dark, but he could make up the small figure of the Crocodile, sleeping the furthest away from him, the Queen, curled into a ball against the wall of the cave, and the bigger slump that consisted in the Princess and the Prince, close together, limbs intertwined. His eyes darted to the entrance of the cave. Emma was supposed to be there, sitting on the ground, guarding the place and keeping an eye on the protection spell. But he saw nothing._

_His body jolted immediately, a state of alertness taking over him and fully waking him up. He almost ran out of the cave but he collided with the invisible wall of Emma's spell and was propelled back a few good paces, landing gracelessly on his behind and hitting his head with the side of the cave. Swearing under his breath, he got up and tried stabbing the barrier with his hook, intending to rip a hole on it and disintegrate it. But it was fruitless._

_"Son of a fucking bitch!" His heart hammered in his ribcage, the worry and fear for Emma's safety making him sick to his stomach. He turned around to the sleeping group. "WAKE UP, EVERYBODY!" he roared._

_There was a little commotion when they all jolted awake, sleepily mumbling and trying to fight against their tiredness to stay alert. Suddenly, they all sensed that if he had urged them to wake up with a scream in the middle of the night, something was not going well._

_"What is it, Captain?" asked Snow White, approaching him with concern marring in her features. Killian took a deep breath and braced himself for the inevitable reactions._

_"Emma is gone."_

_"WHAT?!" the Prince cried, running towards the forest and collapsing, too, with the spell. Killian could have warned him about that, but he had to admit it was a little satisfying seeing the man grunting in pain on the floor. His wife promptly ran to him and helped him up, while he turned to the remaining two people._

_"Do you think you can break the barrier with your combined magic?"_

_"We can try," Regina replied, "but as Gold has told you, Hook, the nature of our magic makes it weaker in Neverland, whilst making Emma's stronger. Don't get your hopes up too high."_

_"Emma is in danger," he said in a low, menacing voice, slowly invading the Queen's personal space and lifting his hook to her face. He was slightly trembling with rage. "She probably saw something or was tricked into crossing her own barrier and venturing to the forest _alone_, so I suggest you try your best, Majesty," he practically spat the last word at her and turned around, avoiding the Crocodile's eyes fixed on him._

_"Of course, Captain," Regina retorted, wearing a sweet smile and coating her voice with evident disdain. She and Rumplestiltskin approached the invisible shield and, in complete synchronization, shot purple beams to it. _

_Killian could see the effort contorting the magicians' faces and the little droplets of sweat running down their foreheads. After what felt like an eternity, tiny cracks started to appear on the barrier until it exploded. The Crocodile leaned on his cane, panting, while Snow White ran to catch Regina before she fell to the ground, overcome with exhaustion._

_"Okay, let's get going," said the Prince a few minutes later, once the others started breathing evenly again._

_"And where, pray tell, do you intend to go?" the pirate asked harshly._

* * *

Whereupon the current, ongoing discussion began. After a while, Killian stopped paying attention to what they were saying because each new suggestion was more ridiculous than the previous one and it took a colossal effort to try to reason with them calmly.

They had already searched the area surrounding their cave and there were no trails. Gold and Regina couldn't use a tracking spell because nobody had any item belonging to Emma with them. They had no clue as to where she had gone. And with each passing minute, the heaviness in Killian's chest grew stronger.

He heard light steps approaching him, but kept his back to the group, his gaze aimed at the flowing stream of water. He registered Snow White's petite figure crouching down next to him and filling some flasks.

"I'm tired of all the arguing too," she said casually, eyes focused on her task. "They are all too stubborn to realize that we can't go into the jungle without solid clue of where to go exactly, of where Emma-" she trailed off, her voice breaking at the mention of her daughter.

"Never would I have thought that you would be the one to side with me, your Highness," Killian commented, as if Snow's almost breakdown hadn't happened.

The woman seemed to notice his intentions at trying to distract her from her concerns, and smiled faintly. "Neither would I," she admitted, "but you have been more than helpful with us even when you didn't have to, and I trust your judgment." At that, Killian's head snapped at her, and saw her smile growing a little wider. "And I also know that you wouldn't let anything happen to Emma."

"What do you m-"

"I'm not blind, Captain. Remember that I was there in the Enchanted Forest with you, and then back home in the diner. I've seen how you look at each other."

Killian was at a loss of words. What on Earth did she mean? That he cared about Emma and her wellbeing was something that he had accepted long ago, but what Snow White was implying... he didn't want to think about it. Not yet. He didn't want to acknowledge how it made perfect sense that he had let go of his revenge to help find a kid he'd only seen for half an hour, tops, just because it was _her_ kid. That, for the first time in too many centuries he wanted to be a better person, to help someone apart from himself, and that she was the one who woke this desire inside him.

The Princess finished with the flasks and got up. "Well, I'm going back to see if they finally stopped bickering," she said and started to turn around.

"You were right," Killian said suddenly, getting up too and facing the woman. "I won't let anything happen to Emma. I don't know where she is, but she's not-" he couldn't finish that sentence; the thought of it alone was enough to send a burning pain to his heart. "I know that. I feel it. And I'll find her."

The strangest expression, akin to recognition, took over her eyes, but after a second it was gone. She nodded once towards him and, in a completely unexpected move, placed her hand on Killian's right arm and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I know, Captain. Thank you."

They returned to the others, who had –finally– taken a break and were silent, seemingly deep in thought.

"Let's go over what we know again," Charming proposed, ignoring the complaining grunt that Regina made. "Who had the shift previous to Emma's?"

"I did," his wife said. "I woke her up for her shift a little later than planned; I wanted her to rest because I know how heartbreaking it was for her to find out that we were in the wrong track..." Killian could hear the tears in the woman's voice and shifted his balance from one foot to the other. People crying had always made him uncomfortable. "I stayed with her by the fire for a little bit but she urged me to go to sleep. She wanted to be alone. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep, and I didn't hear anything since Killian woke us up."

The pirate was surprised that she had decided to call him by his given name, and, judging from everybody else's faces, so were they. Her gesture, however, sent a warm feeling to his chest, but it was not enough to placate the maelstrom that had made itself permanent since Emma disappeared.

"So...she is alone, guarding the camp, and then decides to break her own barrier and go away without telling anyone, knowing how dangerous this place is at night with the Lost Ones and the Shadow lurking around," Regina states clinically, no inflexion of emotion in her voice. "It's as if she's vanished into thin air."

Killian's heart skipped a beat; his mind started racing with the Queen's words. He was so stupid, how couldn't he have figured it out sooner when it was lying right in front of him?!

"She kind of did, so to speak," he said, looking at the startled faces around him. "She _flew._"

"That's why there are no trails," Charming exclaimed, rubbing his chin and opening his eyes wide.

"How could she have flown?" Regina asked, frowning.

"The pixie," Gold explained. "She must have coated Miss Swan with her magic dust to provide her the ability to fly. It's temporary, of course, but much faster and safer than going through the jungle on foot."

"Tink must have seen something; maybe she spotted the lad and told Emma," Killian suggested. It made sense, it all made sense.

Except for one thing...

"That is the most logical explanation, but still, why would Emma go alone without telling any of us?" the Prince asked nobody in particular.

After a few moments, Snow broke the silence. "She must have thought that she would be putting us in danger if she told us. It's the only explanation. The question is what did Tinkerbell tell her to make her act like that?"

They all knew the answer, but no one dared to say it out loud. The only thing that would make Emma act so carelessly was her son's safety being jeopardized.

"Tinkerbell hasn't come back... Do you think they were caught?" Snow asked with evident concern.

"I will be honest with you, your Highness. With all the dangerous creatures and people that this place hosts, it's highly probable," the Captain said, clenching his jaw. He didn't like the idea of Emma and Tink being held prisoners of that pair of lunatics, or, worse, of Felix and the other Lost Ones.

"What can we do, then?" she asked.

Killian thought it over for a minute. They were in the middle of the jungle, quite near the Lost Ones' territory, and potentially unprotected from danger without Emma's magic. Plus, now they had not one but _three_ people –well, two people and a pixie– to find.

The odds were definitely not in their favor.

"I suggest we go back to the Jolly Roger and sail a little off-shore, but still keeping close to this territory. They couldn't have gone to another part of the island. We'll be safer that way, and we'll be able to devise a plan to find them and Henry, or maybe you could find something useful to track Emma," Killian said in a business-like tone.

"And how can you know that they didn't go to any other part of the island?" Regina asked, snorting.

Killian blinked twice, thrown off by the question. "I don't know how. I just know it," he said through gritted teeth, wishing that nobody would press on the subject. "Back to the ship, then?"

"As much as it pains me to admit it, the pirate is right," Gold interjected; it was obvious that he was making a tremendous effort in saying those words. "We should get going soon, dearies."

* * *

Many hours later, Killian was steering the Jolly away from the coast. The idea was to anchor her just before entering the open sea and then wait until they had a solid strategy to go back to the island for Emma and Tinkerbell. He hoped that, wherever they were, they had found Henry and were with him. Being forced to device two separate rescue plans would be a living hell.

The sound of the waves crashing on the wood of the ship and the salty scent of the water instantly calmed him a bit, but not enough to get rid of that uneasiness. He had a feeling that it would stay with him as long as Emma was not with them. And unless a miracle occurred, that situation would not be reverted any time soon, or so it seemed. The whole business was looking gloomier and gloomier.

"Captain, can you let the Jolly sail by herself for a minute? Gold and Regina say they have something to tell us," Snow called him from the doors that lead to the crew's cabins.

He followed her to the biggest of the cabins, where the other three people were already waiting for them, sitting around an object that Killian recognized as the magic globe they'd used to discover that Henry had been taken to Neverland.

"What is it?" he said, taking a seat the furthest away from the magical people as possible.

Gold cleared his throat and waited a few beats – probably for dramatic purposes, as annoying as that was – before he began speaking. "As you know, during our time in this realm, we've tried many a time to use this globe to locate Henry. It should have given us his exact location, as had happened when I used it back in the Land Without Magic to find my son,' Gold went silent for a moment, lowering his gaze and swallowing hard, before continuing in his usual tone, "but it doesn't. The only explanation that I can find for such phenomenon is that Neverland's magic enters in open conflict with the magic this artifact contains, and thus makes it obsolete. All of us who are related to Henry by blood have tried to locate him but the globe would only give us a map of the island and never his exact position on it. However," he punctuated, slightly leaning forward on his cane to add to the effect, "Emma being magical herself, it may work."

No sooner had the Crocodile finished speaking than Snow White hurried forward, pinching her finger with the sharp needle at the top of the globe and letting a couple of blood drops fall on its surface. A small reddish whirlpool formed on the globe, which soon turned into a detailed version of Neverland's layout. Killian's hopes crushed to dust when he realized that there was no highlighted spot that would show Emma's location. However, the contraption suddenly started to shake and the map disappeared, replaced by a cloud of black smoke.

"Wh-what does that mean?!" the Prince asked, obviously terrified.

"She's not dead," Killian cut in before Gold could reply. It wasn't just what he wanted to believe; he _knew_ it.

"But she is dying," Gold said, gently but firmly. "Or at least she's getting weaker and losing her magic. The globe shaking, that was just her magic fighting to manifest and not being able to. Something seems to be restraining it."

The Captain's eyes shot up to Regina just as she was searching his gaze. She nodded. They both knew what it was.

"Greg and Tamara," Regina said calmly. "They have technology that blocks magic."

"Do you think they have her?" Snow asked.

"It makes the most sense. Tinkerbell sees Greg and Tamara with Henry, comes to the cave and tells Emma, who is the only person awake at that time. They have to hurry so they fly there but when they get there the pair take them prisoners and overrule their magic so they can't escape," Killian said, making full use of his well-practiced clinical detachment, even though his insides were twisting in knots.

"We've got the 'who', now we have to figure out where," the Prince commented, and Killian felt that they hadn't done any progress at all.

That night, Killian tossed and turned on his bed but sleep wouldn't come to him. He was exhausted, physically and mentally, but the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness that he so longed for was playing hard to get. He hastily got up, went to his cabinet and drank a generous swig of the strongest rum he could find. It burned his throat and left an unpleasant aftertaste, but it wasn't his intention to savor it. He just wanted some help at falling asleep.

Several minutes later, he barely got the chance to place the empty bottle on the table before collapsing onto the bed and closing his eyes so the room could stop turning around in circles. The last image that appeared in his mind before darkness took over him was Emma grinning at him from the helm of the Jolly, her blonde tresses floating in the breeze and making her look like a sea goddess. After that, everything was pitch-black.

* * *

_His stomach rumbled. He glanced at the clock; it was five thirty in the afternoon, and he doubted anyone would come by. And if they did, they could wait outside; he wouldn't be gone for too long._

_After placing the "Be right back" sign at the door and locking it, he strolled down the street to the diner. He greeted the few townspeople he came across with a small wave of his hand. The diner was barely crowded, so he went straight to the counter and asked Ruby for a cup of black tea and a raisin scone._

_"You and your Britishness," Ruby laughed at him, sending him a cheeky wink, "you've been here for like, forever, and still you always stick to your international snacks." She placed his order in front of him and smirked at him before serving other costumers. He felt his cheeks grow hotter. He didn't know why he always ordered tea and scones, he just...did. What was wrong with that?_

_Ten minutes later, he was already on his way back to the shop. He wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings; his mind busy listing the things he had to do – get to the shop, dust the ship models, polish the counter, close the shop, go back to the apartment, re-read _Peter Pan_, get dinner, go to sleep, wake up, repeat... yeah, he didn't lead the liveliest of lives – when his body collided with another, smaller one. He looked down and saw the blonde head of a woman._

_"Sorry! Are you alright, lass?" he asked. She looked up at him, and his breath hitched._

_She was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen._

_Even though she looked ready to bite his head off – which he deserved, of course, for nearly making her fall to the ground – she was breathtaking, with her sea-green eyes and long, golden hair flowing down her shoulders. "What the hell are you doing here?!" she snapped at him. Then her eyes focused on his face and she looked astonished. He felt confused and a little uncomfortable under her scrutiny. She looked as if she'd seen a ghost._

_She explained then that she had mistaken him for someone else, someone she missed. She looked so broken and helpless that his heart broke a little for her._

_"I'm Eric...Davidson," he said, trying to sound casual and smooth and failing miserably. "And to answer your question, I was just going to my shop after grabbing a bite from Granny's."_

_At that, she smiled at him, and he felt his heart starting a track race inside his chest. Her smile was stunning._

_"I'm Emma."_

* * *

Killian woke up with a start, disoriented and panting heavily. That was the most vivid dream he'd ever had. He'd seen Emma in it, wearing the same outfit she had when he had first met her in the Enchanted Forest. How could he forget that dark red leather jacket!

Inspecting his surroundings, he spotted the empty bottle of liquor on his bedside table and cursed heavily before burying his head in the pillows once more and drifting off to sleep again.

The rest of the night was dreamless.


	7. Closer

**A/N:** thanks so much for the reviews, follows and all the support! Also, as you might have noticed, I'm not updating as often as I did with the first chapters. My winter break ended and I have resumed my classes at University (last semester, the real world is getting closer and it's scary!) so I don't have as much time to write as I used to. Sorry. Anyways, I hope you like where this story is going!  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End - Blur~_

* * *

For the following couple of days, Emma Swan barely left her apartment. Even though the place felt empty and cold without Mary Margaret's presence and Henry's incessant but adorable rambling about the most random things, she preferred staying there than going out longer than what was strictly necessary to get food and basic supplies from the store and running into Neal or Regina. She really didn't want them to put her behind bars with that creepy Claude guy as her only company.

She also didn't want Henry running away from her again. The memory of that made her chest ache.

During her self-imposed pseudo-confinement, she tried to devise a successful plan that would get her closer to Henry and make him remember who she was so they could break Tinkerbell's curse and go back. She couldn't come up with anything. For a moment, she considered going back to Eric's shop and asking him for help, but she knew that he would ask her again about her reasons, like he had when they first met. Though he was genuinely curious and concerned about her, she couldn't risk telling him the whole story and have yet another person turn away from her thinking that she was insane. Besides, she had the feeling that, somehow, he would be the key at helping her getting out of this problem. After all, he was the odd-one-out in this whole situation.

From what Emma could tell, this was another version of Storybrooke when it was still cursed, but deprived of the people who could be handy for her: her parents, Graham, and Mr. Gold, who, she mused, could always provide her his influential and important services. She would have come to him if that was what it took to end this once and for all, regardless the price. But, alas, no sign of Gold around.

And then there was Eric. Back in the Enchanted Forest, Emma had learned from Mulan and Aurora that the people at the refugee camp –including Killian– had managed to avoid Regina's curse. At this point, she was pretty sure that Eric would have been Killian's cursed persona had he been a victim of the curse in the first place. Sometimes, Emma found herself imagining what it would have been like if Killian/Eric had been just another citizen of a quiet Maine town when she first arrived with Henry. If she would have ever met him. If they would have bonded, just like the real Killian and she had. Then, she shook her head as if physically trying to get rid of those thoughts and get into something more useful, because he hadn't been there.

But he was here.

_Why_ is_ he here?_

Around noon of her third day in this town, Emma decided she had had enough with her seclusion and decided to eat something at Granny's, for her own sanity's sake. Despite being alone most of her life, after being surrounded by the townspeople and living with her parents and son for so many months, she was having a hard time getting used to being all by herself again. When she realized that she was starting to talk to herself out loud, she put on her leather jacket and headed straight to the diner, just to be surrounded by other people.

This time the place was more crowded than the first time Emma went there. All the booths were occupied by people having their lunch, so she sat by the counter again, at the far end of the diner, tying to go as unnoticed as possible. She really hoped Neal and Regina Cassidy –_ugh_– didn't go on lunch dates.

"Is that stool taken?" said a voice behind her. Its tone was light and causal, deprived of the low and flirty edge she was so used to. She smiled to herself before turning around and greeting Eric.

Even though she'd already seen him in modern clothes, the image of the leather-loving pirate she knew in his dark blue jeans and plaid button-down shirt was still shocking. Shocking and gorgeous. Who was she kidding?

"Not at all," she replied, and watched Eric hop onto the seat next to hers. "What's up?"

He shrugged. "Not much, really. Just taking a break from work to eat something. Attempting to cook by myself would only end up in tragedy," he smiled and scrunched his nose in a childish, adorable way. Then his face grew serious. "How about you? Are you feeling better? I would have asked you earlier but I haven't seen you since we bumped into each other and I didn't know your address. Besides, showing up your doorstep would have been a little stalker-ish." Emma noticed that he apparently babbled when he got nervous. Which seemed to happen quite often.

Nonetheless, she was genuinely touched by his honorable and gentlemanly intentions. She read the truth in his face, so she decided to reciprocate...to some extent. "Yes, I'm better, thanks. It's just...there is something I have to do which is really complicated and my time to do it is running out," she said, grimly, looking at anywhere but his face and wishing with all her might that time passed differently in this realm and she'd only been cursed for nothing but a few hours.

"That must suck," Eric commented, twitching his mouth into a sympathetic expression, "but don't worry, I'm sure you'll do it."

The conviction in his voice made her turn to him. "How can you be sure? You barely know me."

At that very moment, Ruby appeared in front of them, placing Emma's cocoa in the counter and taking Eric's order.

"Tea and scones as usual, sailor man?" Ruby asked.

He opened his mouth to reply when he eyed Emma taking a sip from her drink from the corner of his eyes. "Actually, no. I'll have what she's having," he said, pointing to Emma with his head.

Ruby raised her eyebrows and tried to hide her smirk as she disappeared to the kitchen. Emma raised a questioning eyebrow at Eric, who shrugged. "I figured it was time for a change. Plus, that looks good. Also, I know how weird this sounds but... I _know_ we've never met before the other day, but ever since... I've had the strangest feeling that I already know you somehow."

Keeping herself together and not starting to scream out of joy took all of Emma's will. Was Killian/Eric remembering her? She distantly recalled how Mary Margaret had claimed almost the same thing shortly after Emma had arrived to Storybrooke.

"Maybe from another life," she said in a low, strangled voice, and quickly took another sip of her cocoa just to hide her face behind the mug.

"Perhaps," he answered absentmindedly, staring at her so intensely she felt her cheeks get hotter.

The loud clank with which Ruby placed Eric's mug in front of him took them both out of their reverie. He turned to his drink and eyed it carefully, as if second-guessing his choice.

"You've seriously never tried hot cocoa with whipped cream before?" she asked, half shocked and half amused.

He shrugged. "I've never really considered trying it. I just stuck to tea."

"Well, you won't regret it," at his cocked eyebrow, she just rolled her eyes. "Try something new, it's called trust."

Her words made him narrow his eyes and inspect her curiously for a second before bringing the steaming mug to his lips and taking a tentative sip. His widened eyes full of delight made Emma smile and chuckle softly as she watched him drink nearly half of it in one long sip.

"Amazing," he stated.

"Told ya," she replied before finishing her own drink and throwing a note at the counter. As much as she enjoyed Eric's company, she really didn't want to stay long enough to risk someone unwanted walking in and making a scene. "Anyways, gotta go now. Enjoy the rest of the cocoa," she told him, hopping down from the stool. As she made to turn and head towards the door, she felt his hand softly grab her wrist, stopping her short and making her heart jump in her ribcage.

"Hey, listen... no intention of being a pain in the ass here, but, if you need someone to talk to or just hang out with, you can come to my shop anytime you want. I don't have many costumers and I'm alone most of the time, so..." he trailed off, watching her with a hopeful glint in his eyes that would have been perfectly concealed for everyone else, but not for Emma.

"I definitely will," she answered, beaming at him and melting inside at his toothy grin. "See you later."

He silently let go of her wrist and nodded at her. "See ya."

* * *

Even though her plan was to go back straight to her apartment, Emma left the diner and wandered absentmindedly, letting her feet take her wherever they wanted to while her mind disappeared to another dimension; a dimension in which she would wake up and walk into the kitchen to find Mary Margaret talking to Henry animatedly and David preparing breakfast for all of them, a dishtowel carelessly thrown over his shoulder. Even though her previous conversation with Eric had soothed her and made her feel less lonely, she still missed her family a lot.

When the pavement beneath her feet turned into sand her feet came to a halt and she looked up. She stifled a gasp when she realized that she ended up by the wooden structure that Henry used to call "his castle". Slowly, she climbed the short ladder and sat on the rough surface, her feet dangling over the edge. She leaned back on her elbows and closed her eyes, relishing in the memory of all the time spent here with her son.

She didn't know how long she'd been like that. It could have been hours or just merely minutes. Her melancholic daydreaming came to an abrupt end at the sound of footsteps approaching her.

"Hello," a tiny voice said shyly, and she opened her eyes and sat up with a start. Just a few feet away from her, Henry was watching her curiously.

"Hi," she answered with a low voice and trying to act as under control as possible. She didn't want to freak him out again.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, but there was no accusatory tone in his question. Only curiosity.

"Just...doing some thinking. You?"

"I came to do some thinking too. This is my thinking spot," he said as he started climbing up the ladder.

"Do you...want me to go?" Emma asked, biting her lower lip and dreading the answer.

Henry sat next to her – keeping a few good inches of distance between their bodies – and shook his head.

"No, actually...I kinda wanted to talk to you too."

Emma fisted her hands to stop the shaking of them. She drew a long, calming breath before turning to face him. "About what?"

"The other day... I was very rude to you, I'm sorry for screaming at you," he said, looking at her under his eyelashes and silently begging for forgiveness with his beautiful eyes, which made Emma's own eyes a bit watery.

"No, kid, I'm the one who is very sorry. I scared you. I didn't mean to."

He nodded at her before lowering his gaze to his lap and shifting a little, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. "I heard you, you know. Talking to my mom. Is it true? Are you my real mom?"

Like the very first time she had met him, Emma didn't know how to react to the kid's straightforwardness. "Wh-what do you m-?"

"I know my mom is not my birth mom," he cut her off. "I heard her and dad talk about it a long time ago. Besides, I don't look like her at all. So I just wanted to know if it's true that you're my real mom."

"Yes," she whispered, not daring to talk any louder because she didn't trust her voice to keep steady.

He seemed to consider that piece of information for a few moments before turning to her with a full grin on his face and extending his hand for her to shake. "I'm Henry Cassidy."

"Emma Swan," she said, taking his little hand in hers. After a few heartbeats of heavy silence, she decided to steer the conversation to a lighter direction. "That was a cute dog you had the other day. Is it yours?"

"Pongo? No, he's Archie's. My therapist," he quickly added, oblivious of the fact that Emma didn't really need that clarification. "He lets me keep it for a few days because it keeps me company."

Emma's heart dropped at the wistful tone on his voice. "You feel lonely often?"

Henry blinked a few times, as if trying to hold back tears, and nodded. "Do you know any stories?" he suddenly asked her.

"Excuse me?"

"I...uhm," he blushed a little. "I love stories, but my mom doesn't like them so she never tells me any. And my dad tries sometimes, just to humor me, but he doesn't put too much effort and he doesn't do it very well," he explained.

Emma suddenly remembered Henry's leather fairytale book. Mary Margaret had said that she had given it to him so he wouldn't feel so miserable and to remind him of the importance of having hope and believing in happy endings. In this world, there wasn't any Mary Margaret to offer him such comfort.

"As a matter of fact, I know plenty of stories. I think you'll like them."

She smiled at the sight of his face lighting up in excitement. "Like what?"

"Well, have you heard the story of Snow White? Cinderella? Hansel and Gretel?" He nodded enthusiastically. "Well, turns out that those are very old stories, and, as it usually happens, they changed through time. They all happened in real life, but quite differently from the way we know them. And I happen to know the real versions of them."

"Will you tell me?" he asked, eagerness filling his voice.

"Of course," she said, smiling at him. "But remember that everything I will tell you is true, and you have to promise to believe it."

"I promise! I promise! Tell me a story, please," he pleaded.

And so, Emma began to tell him the story of her parents the best she could. She told him that Snow White was a young, fair princess whose mom and dad had died, and who was hated by her evil stepmother. She told him that Snow White had to escape the kingdom when the Evil Queen had hired a man to kill her and tear her heart out, and had lived as a thief and outlaw to survive.

"It was in one of her thieving missions that she met a Prince who turned out to be the love of her life," she said, watching Henry's face looking at her, completely absorbed by her narration.

"That's amazing! And how did they meet?"

Emma was about to tell him the detailed story of the journey her parents made together in search of her father's engagement ring – Mary Margaret had told her that story many a time since they rediscovered their forgotten relationship – when she glanced up and noticed that the sun was setting behind the clear sea.

"It's getting late, Henry, you should go back home before it gets dark," she said, trying to hide the sadness in her voice at the thought of letting him go. "But if you want, I'll continue with the story tomorrow."

He beamed at her, clapping excitedly. "Yes! Thank you! Same place, same time?"

"Sure," she said warmly. "Now go!"

He climbed down from the castle and, after giving a few steps, he stopped and turned back at her. "It was great to meet you, Emma," he said.

"You too, kid. See you tomorrow."

Emma watched her son's retreating form until he disappeared in the distance, but this time, there was no heaviness in her heart. Only hope.


	8. Welcome to the jungle

**A/N:** 100 FOLLOWS! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! You've no idea how happy I am that so many people like and follow this little story :D here, have another one. Sorry it's a little shorter than usual, but my muse is being a little bitch. And thanks a lot to my soulmatey Carmina (gaviotica31) for her support and invaluable opinions!  
**Disclaimer:** Nothing is owned by me. Ouch.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end_  
_~To the End - Blur~_

* * *

If Killian Jones' mood had been cranky and annoyed upon learning that he'd be going back to that hellhole that was Neverland with none other than his loathed Crocodile as his guest of honor, that was nothing compared to his state of mind when he woke up the day after Emma's disappearance. His head was pounding, his heart was beating more slowly and he felt as if he had a ton of molten lead solidifying inside his ribcage. Lying on the bed, he grunted groggily as images from his dream danced in a grotesque parade in front of his mind's eye.

He was a Storybrooke citizen, who apparently owned a kind of trading business. He was himself, but he'd introduced to Emma as one Eric Davidson. Never in his life had he heard that name. Well, he'd heard the name Eric, of course, but the few memories that it triggered weren't happy ones, so it had stayed buried deep in Killian's mind for hundreds of years. But Eric Davidson, that man was a stranger to him. Yet, somehow, it wasn't.

It was him. But he couldn't have been more different.

The usual arrogant and blatantly flirtatious stance that he had so skillfully mastered over the decades was nowhere to be seen. From what he could remember, this Eric Davidson that was him in the dream was insecure and unaware of how to woo and react in front of a lady. In his alcohol-induced fantasy, Emma had seemed confused by him and had said that he reminded her of someone she missed. Was she talking about him, the _real_ him? It had certainly been the most realistic dream he'd ever had. He had been able to feel the warmth from Emma's body when they had collided; he'd inhaled the scent emanating from her hair – the height difference between them left the top of her head right under his nose –; he'd heard all the noises coming from the busy streets around them. Unlike the numbness that characterized his dreams, his senses had been on high alert during this one. It almost, _almost_ hadn't felt like a dream at all.

Kicking the sheets off of his body, he got up a little too fast and had to bury his hook in his bedside table to maintain himself in standing position. The empty bottle of rum rattled with the movement and almost fell to the ground. Killian cursed some more. _What the hell was in that damned rum to make me hallucinate like that?_

Maybe Neverland's treacherous and unforgiving magic was playing tricks with his brain, attacking him when he wasn't able to defend himself or erect his yard-high walls, and with the one thing that made him the most vulnerable.

Because, _gods_, at first it had felt good to see Emma's face again, eyes blazing, lips curled up in a smile; but then he woke up and the experience left him with nothing but unbearable pain, much stronger and stinging than he'd ever thought he'd feel for anyone since that fateful day Milah's body fell lifeless in his arms, the dust that had been her heart flying with the wind on the deck of the Roger. But this wasn't just anyone.

It was Swan. Emma.

He needed to find her.

Feeling all the weight of his almost four hundred years of age, Killian went to the area of the ship they were using for eating and found the Royal Couple sitting together, gazes lost and not paying attention to the food in front of them. As soon as they heard him enter the room, their heads shot up to him in identical moves, and with identical hope in their eyes, which disappeared within less than a second.

"Any news?" he asked them despite already knowing the answer, and walking to the cupboard to get some straps of dried meat because he could not bear to keep looking at their crestfallen faces any longer.

"No," the Prince said, letting his head hang heavily. "I tried the globe again this morning but it keeps shaking and turning black."

"Emma is the strongest lass I've ever met, and believe me, I've met many a lass through the centuries," Killian said with conviction. "She'll be fine. She's a survivor. And we _will_ find her."

Killian was silently wondering why the hell everyone in the family had those weird expressions in their faces when he uttered that particular phrase when the Crocodile limped into the room, closely followed by Regina.

"Have you thought of another way to track Emma?" Snow asked Regina in an imploring tone.

"Good morning to you, too," the Queen snapped back with disgust printed in her twisted mouth.

"Listen, _Regina_," the Prince spat, standing up and approaching the woman in a threatening way; a vein in his forehead throbbing to the point it looked about to burst. "My daughter is out there in danger, the mother of _your_ son, so show a little respect and help us! You owe us that!"

She merely scoffed. "I don't own any of you a damn thing," she started, before Killian interrupted.

"PEOPLE!" he roared, getting the attention of the group. He inhaled deeply and used all his willpower to speak to them as calmly as possible when all he wanted was to cut their tongues off so they would shut up once and for all. "As entertaining as watching your neverending feud is, it'd be wiser to work _together_ towards our common goal and rescue Emma, Henry and Tinkerbell as soon as possible."

"You should listen to the pirate. Even he let go of his pitiful, futile attempts at killing me. Not that he'd have ever succeeded, anyway," the imp added with a too-innocent expression that made Killian physically sick.

"As I was saying," the Captain continued through gritted teeth, "we need to work together. Seeing that there's no magical way to know where Emma is, we have no other option but search the Lost Ones' territory on foot. My guess is that they should be somewhere around its borders. Greg and Tamara wouldn't have ventured further into the area with the threat of the Lost Ones' lashing out on them and attacking."

"That is if they aren't already working with them," the Prince commented gloomily.

"That is a possibility," Killian conceded. The produced an old map from the inner pocket of his long jacket and unfolded it on the table. The group of four stepped closer to take a look at it. "The Lost Ones' territory covers this part of the land," he said, drawing a circle over the map with his finger. "We are near the western edge of it; just about four hours away on foot. When we were on the cave, we were closer to the south-east of their borders," at this point, his voice lowered into a contemplative tone, his brain buzzing, deep in thought. "If Tinkerbell and Emma did indeed fly that night, they must have been headed to the opposite side. Otherwise, they would have probably just trekked."

"So you think we should focus on the west and north borders of their territory?" Snow asked.

He nodded slowly. "Yes, indeed," he said, a strange feeling of absolute conviction taking over him. "That's what we should do."

The lead in his chest became a little lighter. He was able to breathe a little better. That's how he knew he was in the right. He could, deep inside him, _feel_ that he was getting closer to Emma.

* * *

Even though his body should be worn out and exhausted after so many hours of demanding search through part of the thickest areas of the jungle, Killian Jones felt energetic, as if in possession of some supernatural stamina running through his veins. Ignoring the muffled complaining groans of the people behind him, he kept moving. Since they had left the ship several hours ago, they had already covered the whole southern limit and, having found no hint of the missing people, they started advancing to the north-west. With each mile they covered, Killian felt more alive, the heaviness in his chest slowly but gradually dissipating. They were on the right path.

He took the lead, clearing the way by slicing the vines and poisoned plants with his sword and quickly scanning the area before venturing into it. Behind him were Snow White, arrow tensed in her bow, ready to shoot; Rumplestiltskin and Regina, both of them on alert to use their magical abilities if necessary; and lastly, Prince Charming, firmly gripping his own sword and keeping an eye on the ground they were just leaving so that they wouldn't be attacked from behind. All those extra precautions had to be taken in this part of the island.

Despite the usual hot temperature in Neverland, this part was kept considerably cool and humid due to the dense vegetation and the gigantic trees. In such environment, it was expected to hear the sounds of different animals and insects wandering about, but in this case, the only noise that could be heard was the one made by their feet against the hard ground.

Suddenly, a twig snapped. Stopping abruptly, Killian looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. Then, glancing up, he caught sight of something among the branches of a thick tree, several feet above them. A pair of dark, menacing eyes.

"Snow!" he called, driving the petite woman's attention to where he was pointing with his head. She quickly shot an arrow and, seconds later, the lifeless body of a Lost One fell from the tree as if it were nothing but another leave. Killian turned around and saw that everybody was already forming a circle, glancing at their surroundings, waiting for the imminent attack. If Killian knew one thing about the group of bloody bandits, it was, as he had told his newest crew many a time, that they never worked alone.

Mere seconds later, a shrieking war cry resonated through the jungle and at least a dozen Lost Ones surrounded them, all armed with swords, poisoned darts, and bows and arrows. For a transcendent short eternity, everything was eerily quiet.

Then all hell broke loose.

Regina and Gold were barely able to divert the poisoned darts that a couple of the wild-looking teenagers were throwing at them. The Queen even managed to make a dart turn around and dig itself in its owner's neck, thus making him fall limply on the ground. The Dark One used his cane to knock a smaller intruder off his feet – _typical of him; going for the weakest one, that coward, _Killian thought while his own sword clashed loudly against the one of a well-built, dark skinned Lost One that he recognized as Rufio – before throwing a curse at him that either made him disappear or turned him into a small animal, for Killian didn't see the kid anymore.

Charming, for his part, was fighting two of them at the same time, spinning and ducking effortlessly to avoid their thrusts while he tried to jab them with his sword in time. Meanwhile, Snow made short work of the archers, leaving only the Lost Ones who fought with their swords and knives. She shot one of the ones fighting with her husband in the back of his neck, killing him instantly. With the distraction, Charming was able to finish off the other one.

After what felt like hours, Killian managed to make Rufio lose his balance by kicking him in the ankles and yanking him back with his hook. Once he was on the ground, the pirate didn't spare a second look at the man before burying his sword in his stomach. By that time, there were only two Lost Ones left, who promptly fell victims of Killian's sword and Gold's magic.

Once everything was quiet again, Killian let his knees give in and he sat down, trying to catch his breath. He saw Regina hovering her palm over a deep gash on Snow's arm and the purple magic healing the younger woman, who looked at her with eyes full of awe and gratitude.

"You ok?"

He barely registered that the Prince's question was directed at him. He had been too distracted by the sight of the lifeless bodies around them, with open wounds that were still bleeding, arrows coming out from their necks and torsos, body parts twisted at weird angles. It had really been carnage. And they had been _extremely_ lucky to come out of it practically unharmed.

"Yes," he replied, walking over to the rest of the group. "Everyone alright?"

Snow nodded and opened her mouth to say something when she was cut short by another sound.

A strangled cry.

A plea for help.

Looking at each other with the same startled expressions, they cautiously approached the source of the sound. Several feet away, tied to a tree and unbelievably weak, was Tinkerbell.


	9. Knocking on Heaven's doors

**Disclaimer**: The only thing I own are the crazy plot bunnies.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End -Blur~_

* * *

Completely opposed to her self-imposed isolation of the first days in the cursed world, Emma Swan now spent her days helping Eric in his shop and basically keeping him company in the mornings and during lunchtime, and telling more stories to Henry in the afternoon, after he left school. They had agreed that Henry would tell his parents that he'd be spending some time working on a school project with a girl from his class, Paige; and that Archie, his therapist, would take him and pick him up after their sessions. The kind little man had instantly agreed to cover for Henry in his secret meetings with Emma, stating that her presence and her stories had instantly helped the little boy to deal with his depression and loneliness. Thus, Operation Grasshopper had begun. (Henry had chosen that code name when Emma incidentally commented him that the therapist reminded her of Jiminy Cricket.)

The initial hopelessness also seemed to be gone. Instead, Emma felt lighter than she had in a very long time, Eric and Henry inadvertently healing the cracks in her heart. However, she never let her mission and the reason for her current state drift too far away from her head. She was aware that, as much as she loved this Henry and no matter how happy their furtive reunions made her, the real Henry was asleep inside a hollow tree in Neverland with her, waiting to be rescued. Waiting for _her_ to rescue him. Tinkerbell had said that the curse would finish sucking up their magic in a matter of weeks, but she had no idea how different time was in this realm, so there was no way of knowing how long she had left. She hoped time would be on her side.

Still, she couldn't rush things and throw all the information of Henry for fear it would freak him out again and drive him away from her for good. They were growing closer each passing minute, but she still had to be extremely careful.

"You know, I've been thinking about the stories you told me," Henry said four days after their first meeting, sitting down next to her in the old castle, their safe haven.

"What about them? Don't you like them?" She asked, a cold fear running through her.

"No, no, they're awesome! Much better than the traditional versions," he rushed to say, and Emma was visibly relieved.

"Good! What about them, then?"

"Well, remember when you told me about Hansel and Gretel yesterday?" Emma nodded, and he went on. "Well, I had this feeling that there was something very familiar about that story. I stayed awake in bed that night because I couldn't sleep, trying to figure it out. And then it hit me," he looked at her, excitement taking over his sweet features. "I know them!"

"You do?" Emma asked, slightly breathless, hiding her hands under her thighs so they would stop shaking.

"Yes, Ava and Nicholas!" he exclaimed, and Emma suppressed the sudden urge to laugh out loud, remembering the siblings she'd helped and reunited with their father so long ago. "They are a brother and a sister that were left alone, and a couple of days ago their dad found them and now the three of them are living together. My mom was not so happy about that, I don't know why," Henry added, pensive.

_No wonder_, Emma thought. However, her spiteful feelings towards the former Madame Mayor were overshadowed by the immense happiness and _relief_ at the fact that Henry was starting to believe.

"You think that the characters of my stories are here, in town?" she subtly egged him on.

Henry considered it for a few moments, adorably scratching the side of his head. "Actually for a minute I thought that you were basing your stories on the people on town, like when you told me about Archie and Jiminy Cricket, but now that you mention it..." Suddenly, he snapped his head towards her, his hazel eyes burning holes in hers, full of hope and wonder. "Can it...be possible?"

Emma beamed at him. "Anything can be possible, kid," she said cryptically, winking at him, earning a short chuckle.

They spent the following hour talking about different people from the town and trying to find out their fairytale counterpart (Emma, of course, already knew most of them, but she played along for her son's sake, seeing how happy he was warmed her heart like no other thing), until Archie came with Pongo to take Henry home. For the first time, the boy gave Emma a quick hug before following the man and patting the dog affectionately. "See you tomorrow!" he yelled over her shoulder, smiling at her.

Emma was able to hold the tears until his small silhouette vanished in the distance before letting them fall freely.

* * *

"Well, someone's in an exceptionally good mood today," Eric commented with a breathtaking smile at Emma's 'Good morning' greeting in a sing-song voice as she entered through the shop's glass door.

She laughed and handed him the Styrofoam cup of hot cocoa from Granny's, leaving the paper box of doughnuts on the counter; he couldn't hold both things with his only hand.

"I am," she confirmed, still smiling.

"Let me guess: you're making definite progress in your super-secret mission," he said casually, but with evident curiosity barely disguised.

During all the time they spent together, Eric had informed her about a lot of things about this Storybrooke. Basically, it was almost the same as the good old town she had known before she'd broken the curse. Regina was the Mayor here too, and also the one wearing the pants in the Cassidy home. Neal was a quite friendly man, but he was clearly pushed over by his wife's dominating personality – "There's something that rubs me off the wrong way about him. It's like...he's not a bad man, but he's make a lot of bad choices, you know?" Eric had said to her one time, and Emma couldn't help but agree with him about that.

"I am," she said, taking a sip of her own hot cocoa and avoiding the elephant in the room.

"You're still not telling me what it's about, right?"

"I'm sorry," she said sheepishly, "I will, some time, though."

"I'll hold you to that," he said, smirking, before his features became marred with worry and insecurity. "Actually, there's another thing I want to ask you."

Emma scrunched her eyebrows, taken aback by his sudden retreat to the Eric she met that very first day. "Shoot."

"Would you like to, uhm...go out? Tonight?" He'd been staring intently at his shoes, but at the last word he lifted his gaze towards her, electric blue eyes piercing her soul.

Emma's own heartbeat started to quicken its pace. Sure, she'd known since the beginning that Eric was attracted to her – it didn't take a scientist to notice – and, if she was completely honest with herself, she really liked this softer, non-pirate side of Killian. It almost felt like _cheating_ on the real Killian, which was stupid, especially since they had never shared anything more intimate that a couple _tête-a-têtes_ and some innocent share-holding and skin-brushing. They had never let themselves fully acknowledge the weight of their feelings for one another and act on it, due to the imminent danger that they were under, always fearing for an attack from one of Neverland's traps, from the Lost Ones. Fearing for Henry's safety.

Eric may not act like the insufferable (and insufferably charming) pirate that she'd come to know and understand and trust, but she _knew_ that, deep down, he was still Killian. And she was attracted to him all the same because of that. So, Emma felt her face breaking into a grin so wide her cheeks starting to hurt, and found herself nodding at the man in front of her.

"I'd love to," she said earnestly, and the toothy grin he directed at her made _her_ blush, for a change.

"Wonderful! I'll pick you up after I close the shop, okay?"

"Sounds great. Here," Emma grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the counter and scribbled her address on it. "So you know which door to knock on." She handed him the paper and got up, heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" He called after her.

"I need to figure out what to wear," she smirked without turning back to him. "See you around seven!"

* * *

Since the curse hit her, Emma's constant wish was for time to slow down, give her advantage and a wider span to get herself and Henry free. Now, as she rummaged restlessly through her closet, she wanted nothing more than the nine hours until her date with Eric to go by in a blink of an eye. She had never felt so antsy and excited before. It was ridiculous how much she felt like a crazed teenager getting ready for her first date.

Hidden in a deep corner of her closet, Emma found her old knee-high dress, tight and hot pink. She didn't know what kind of date Eric had planned, but decided to go for it and wear the dress anyway. She knew the kind of effect it had on men, and she sure as hell wanted to see his face when he'd see her in it. She set it on her bed and decided to go shoe shopping, as the only footwear she owned here were her brown boots, a pair of sneakers and woolen slippers.

There was only one shoe shop in town, called _The Peachy Cobbler_, run by two very short brothers who made absolutely everything in their power to make sure she got what she wanted. Despite the town's isolation and state of temporary hibernation, the designs of the shoes were strangely fashionable and beautiful. Emma ended up buying a pair of black suede wedges with ankle straps. _Too bad I can't take them home after all this is over_, she thought in a weird wave of frivolity.

She met Henry at their usual place and time, and they spent some time talking about school and the stories. Henry told her that one of the kids at his school, younger than him, had recently been adopted by the Italian carpenter whose shop was across from Granny's, and that Mother Superior had helped them, as she was the head of the orphanage where the kid lived. "His name is Angelo, but I almost called him Pinnochio today when I saw him with Marco," Henry confessed, laughing.

"That would have been awkward," Emma conceded with a short laugh, remembering the scruffy guy on the motorbike and the little red-headed kid that were actually the same person.

Emma left Henry a little earlier in order to get ready; practically jogged to her apartment and spent an obnoxiously long amount of time under the hot spray of water of the shower, trying to calm her nerves. She curled her hair in soft waves, applied a little make-up carefully and put on her dress and new wedges. At seven o'clock sharp, there was a knock on the door.

She grabbed her small black handbag and, after taking a deep, calming breath, opened the door.

Emma figured that Eric's struck, awed expression was mirrored in her face. His mouth hung open and his eyes widened, taking in her appearance. She was doing pretty much the same, because, _oh boy_, what was in front of her was a sight to behold.

He had never looked more like her pirate.

He hadn't shaved, so there was a _very_ appealing five o'clock shadow on his cheeks and chin, and his hair was messy, but in an intentional way, very similar to the way Killian usually sported it. Black dress shoes, dark jeans that hugged his lower body just right, black dress shirt and black leather jacket.

"Wow," he breathed, shaking his head and smiling at her.

"Right back at you," she said, voice low, _almost_ breathless. She cleared her throat. "I like your new look," she added, pointing vaguely at his face with her finger.

"I felt like trying something new," he smiled, a little self-consciously. "Actually, I feel a little ridiculous right now."

"Don't be, it looks good on you. Where are we going?"

Eric wiggled his thick eyebrows at her with a smirk so cheeky for a moment she thought it was Killian in front of her. "Ah, ah, ah! You'll find out soon enough. First...here," he handed her a small bouquet of brightly colored lilies that he had been hiding behind his back. She almost choked.

No one had ever given her flowers before.

"Thank you," she said, smiling at him. She quickly went to the kitchen, filled a glass with water and put the flowers inside. Returning to the door, she saw Eric holding out his arm for her to take.

"Shall we?" he said. She wrapped her hand around the inside of his elbow, too much aware of the tingling sensation in her fingertips against his jacket, and they left.

It was weird to watch him driving. Emma spent the whole ride trying to imagine how Killian would be able to do that with his hook. He was resourceful enough; he'd surely find a way. She was so focused on her own musings that she didn't notice where they were heading until he parked the car and took the keys out of the ignition.

"I thought you didn't like sailing," she commented as he helped her out of the car and guided her to a small boat called _New Dreams_.

"It's not that I don't like it, I just get seasick. But you do like it, and I figured that it would be best if I made use of this world's little miracles, such as Dramamine." He stepped carefully on the boat, which swayed a little under his weight, and grabbed her hand with his right and placed his prosthetic on her waist so she wouldn't fall on the water.

"Such a gentleman," Emma said with a small smile.

"I'm always a gentleman," he winked at her, releasing her hand and waist and smirking lightly. Emma felt the loss of contact mixed with recognition and nostalgia at his answer, so similar to one he'd given her a lifetime ago. "Besides, I wouldn't want you to ruin that pretty little outfit."

"Oh, so you're more concerned about my outfit than my safety? That's nice!" She scoffed in mock indignation, earning a laugh from him. "Is this boat yours?"

"Nope, Leroy let me borrow it," he answered, undoing the rope that tied the vessel to the harbor and starting the engine. He took them a few miles off coast; the outline of the town was still visible behind them, and in front of them was a breathtaking view of the starlit sky and the big, full moon over the calm sea.

"So beautiful," she exclaimed, taking in their surroundings.

"Indeed," she heard him say, not looking back at him but feeling his eyes on her the whole time.

They ate a delicious lasagna dish that Eric had heated in the boat's small kitchen; all the while talking about the most random stuff and laughing all the time. She almost lost her composure when he retrieved their dessert from the mini-fridge and she saw that it was creamy blue Jell-O.

Emma marveled at how easy it was to get along with him. Just like what had happened with Killian at the beanstalk, it felt _natural_ to talk to him; as if they'd known each other all their lives.

After clearing out their plates, they spent hours sitting next to each other, him pointing various constellations at her. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling him stiffen for a second before resting his own head lightly over hers, a small sigh of content escaping him.

When it was finally time to go, he drove them back to the harbor, and, after securing the boat in place again, drove her home. She didn't let go of his hand after he helped her out of the car, and they stood at the front door of her apartment building, holding hands and drowning in each other's eyes.

"Thank you, Eric. Tonight was wonderful," she whispered.

He said nothing, just smiled sweetly at her and slowly lowered his head. She kept still and closed her eyes when she felt him kiss her cheek, lips lingering longer than necessary on her skin, starting a fire inside her. The temptation was almost unbearable. She just had to move her head a few inches to the side...

"Emma Swan?" a stern voice broke the spell in which she and Killian had fallen. She turned to the source of the voice and saw Claude, the sheriff, glaring at her. "You are under arrest."

* * *

_**A couple of notes: the name of the shoe shop is the name of a cartoon based of the tale of the Shoemaker and the Helping Elves. The name of Leroy's boat stems from the fairy Nova ("new" in Latin) and his previous Dreamy persona. Also, raise your hands if you are eternally grateful to the inventor of Dramamine *raises both hands as high as humanly possible*. I hope you liked the chapter, I can't thank you enough for all the follows, favorites and kind reviews! Til next time!**_


	10. One simple idea

**A/N:** Firstly, THANKS SO MUCH for all your amazing feedback and all the follows and favorites. It makes me want to hug you all 3 Also, a PSA: I really don't know how long this is going to be, I've always have a kind of concise style when it comes to writing. This is the 10th chapter (omg ten already), but my guess is that there won't be more than 17, 20. Around that number. Just so you know.  
**Disclaimer:** Actually, no *sobs*.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End-Blur~_

* * *

Killian, Snow and Charming ran to the slumped figure of the pixie-girl, whose body was firmly secured against the bark of the tree by a tight rope. Snow started to cut the rope with her dagger, helped by her husband. Killian turned around and saw Regina and Gold a few feet behind them; she was keeping a close eye on their surroundings, as if preparing herself in case they were ambushed, while the Crocodile leaned on his cane, narrowed eyes inspecting Tinkerbell, who let out a weak whine when she was finally free of her bounds and fell forward. Charming caught her in his arms before she fell flat on her face and carefully lifted her up, cradling her against his chest.

Killian's heart twisted at the sight of his friend. She looked even worse than when he had rescued her from the pixies' wrath. A big, black bruise covered the right side of her forehead; there were dark shadows under her eyes and scratches all over her arms. Staying awake seemed to be taking all of her remaining strength.

"Should we take her to the ship?" Charming asked.

Killian shook his head. "Too far away. I know a small waterfall hidden in a covered clearing, about three miles away from here. It's quite a concealed location; we should camp there for the time being."

"Lead the way, then," Snow said.

The Prince grabbed Tinkerbell – who seemed to be sleeping now – tighter in his arms and set to walk behind Killian. Snow, Regina and Gold followed suit.

"Why did the Lost Ones attack us? I thought you said they never moved during daytime," Regina asked about half an hour later, breaking the tense silence that had fallen within the group during their journey to the waterfall.

"They don't," Killian answered, doing his best to ignore the bitterness and accusation in the Queen's tone. Did the bitch really believe that it was his fault that they were ambushed? "They must have known about our presence here for a long time, and the fact that they did something about it only just now means that we were getting closer to whatever it is they don't want us to find."

"Emma," Snow murmured, a pained whisper under her breath.

Killian didn't say anything. The very same thought awoke in his mind and heart as soon as he saw Tinkerbell was the Lost Ones' prisoner. Emma probably was too. His only hand turned into a tight fist as he tried to push away unwanted thoughts about her wellbeing. He knew what the Lost Ones were capable of, the cruelty that they could remorselessly resort to if needed. He knew what the Shadow did to its victims. Over and over again, he repeated the same mantra, trying to ease his soul: _The strongest, bravest lass I've ever met, Emma is. She'll be fine. She'll be fine._

They reached a part of the jungle where the vegetation was getting thicker and the amount of huge insects and small animals that tried to bite them was getting larger. A few more paces and they reached a wall of green vines with bright orange flowers. Killian used his sword and hook to cut all the vines down, revealing a hidden area whose beauty and peace contrasted with the rest of the damned island. He had stumbled upon it by chance during his previous stay in Neverland. Dark green plants with exceptionally big leaves framed a small waterfall, not even nine feet tall, which flowed into a small pond of nearly transparent water.

"The rocks behind the waterfall will make a decent cave for us to stay until we're able to resume our quest," he said, stepping into the clearing, followed by the group. He turned around and saw Regina putting back together the wall of vines with a flick of her wrist and a small cloud of purple smoke, effectively hiding the group.

David carefully settled Tinkerbell on the soft grass and Snow splashed some fresh water on her face. It was slightly puzzling for Killian to see how protective of the little pixie the pair was, almost parental. He wondered if Emma not being around had enhanced that. A few seconds later, with a low groan, Tinkerbell started to stir.

"Tink?" Killian asked softly, approaching her. "Wake up, sweetheart."

Her eyes fluttered open and she took in her surroundings. "What..." she trailed off, disoriented. Suddenly a shocked expression took over her features and her lips formed a perfect 'O'. "Oh my...the Lost Ones..."

"What happened, Tink?" he asked.

She didn't look at him. Starting intently at the ground, she bit her lip and batted her eyelashes, as if she was trying to keep tears at bay. "They got me."

"Was Emma with you?" Snow asked, bordering on desperation.

Tink nodded softly. "I...I spotted Henry. Two nights ago. I rushed back to the camp and Emma was the only one awake. There was no time to lose so we flew together to try to retrieve him. But when we arrived to the place where I'd seen the boy, we were surrounded by Lost Ones. Dozens of them. It was a trap..." a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Where is she? What happened to her?" the Prince asked.

"I don't know. Before I could defend us from the Lost Ones, one of them threw a dart at me and everything went black. I woke up alone in a dark dungeon, chained to a wall. Tried to free myself with magic but it wouldn't work. I haven't seen Emma or Henry."

"Why did they take you out? Where were they taking you?" Regina butted in, narrowing her eyes at the pixie.

"They didn't tell me, just grabbed me and made me go with them," she said, gingerly touching the bruise on her head. "But from what I heard them saying, they knew you were around and wanted to use me to negotiate with you."

"About what?" the Evil Queen pressed.

"I don't know! I'm telling you what I heard," she whined, defeated, burying her face in her hands.

"Shh, it's ok, dear, don't worry," Snow murmured reassurances at her, gently rubbing circles in her back, minding her scars there.

Regina turned around and fixed her eyes on the pirate. "Do you think they wanted to bargain about Henry?"

He cocked an eyebrow; it was the first time she had turned to his knowledge of the island and its inhabitants instead of stubbornly rejecting it. "It's a possibility," he conceded. "Perhaps they wanted to release Tinkerbell in exchange for information about his whereabouts. They have, after all, been looking for a boy, the Chosen One, for centuries. They might believe it's him."

"Maybe they already have Henry and wanted to hurt the pixie in front of us as a warning of what would happen if we meddle in their business," Gold suggested with his mouth turned downwards in a frown, approaching them from behind and making Killian's blood boil. The worst part is that he was possibly right, too. Though he'd never admit that out loud for the Crocodile to gloat. "Captain. A word?"

Not a little shocked, Killian studied the Crocodile for a minute. His usual calculating and cruelly mocking gaze was nowhere to be seen, he kept his eyes focused on the Captain's face and his stance was completely serious. Finally, he turned his head towards Regina, who got the message and made herself scarce, leaving the two swore mortal enemies alone.

"What is it?" he demanded.

"Your friend, the pixie," he said, lowering his voice so only he could hear him. "I don't trust her."

"Well, you aren't a beacon of trust yourself, to be quite honest," Killian spat, not able to hold himself.

"I'm being serious here, dearie. Forget our...differences for a moment, and listen. Don't you see that there is something a little, let's say, peculiar about Tinkerbell's behavior?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Oh, I'm glad you asked," he twitched his mouth up mockingly before sobering his expression. "She happens to be the only person or creature in this whole realm to have seen Henry, and guides us to the place where he's supposed to be. We arrive there only to find no hint whatsoever of my grandson ever setting foot there. She takes off again and turns back mysteriously in the middle of the night claiming again that she knows about Henry's whereabouts, this time taking Miss Swan with her. I don't even think Miss Swan went with her willingly; she knows better than leaving without warning any of us."

He made a pause, letting his speech sink in. Killian felt painfully torn in half. A part of him, the stubborn and predominant one, was screaming at him to ignore the Crocodile, claiming that he only wanted to mess with his head, to turn him against their only ally in Neverland, to make him suffer even more for his own pleasure. The other part, however... It whispering to him, begging him to open his eyes to things he refused to see.

"What about Tinkerbell being the Lost Ones' hostage?" he countered back, incredulous. The stubborn yelling voice within had won this battle. For now. "You think it was staged?"

Gold merely shrugged. "If there is something I've learned in my long life, and that seems to be especially true in this realm, is that anything is possible. No option is too far-fetched; it's us who refuse to acknowledge certain truths." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the pirate alone with his troubled thoughts.

Killian turned around to look at Tinkerbell, who looked too broken, still sobbing; Snow White still trying to comfort her. He couldn't believe that her, the innocent pixie-girl who had helped him all those decades ago, to whom he bowed protection out of his gratitude, was actually part of a plot against them, deliberately taking them off course and guiding them to the wrong ways. He didn't want to believe that; yet...

The seed of doubt was already planted in his head and there was nothing he could do about it now.

* * *

He didn't speak to anyone; the Crocodile's words quickly festering inside his head. Stealthily, he kept an eye on Tinkerbell. She hadn't done or said much, she'd just eaten some fruit Snow had handed her and then lied down on the grass, sleeping soundly. Captivity was taking its toll on her. If it was real captivity.

He needed to ask her questions, needed to see if she was in fact tricking them, but had to approach the subject as gingerly as possible. Had to make her step on her own foot and admit it by accident. Most of all, he needed to do it in a way that didn't give out that he was suspecting of her.

In order to do that, he needed a plan. He couldn't just start interrogating her out of nowhere. Good thing she had been asleep for hours; it gave him time to think about what to do. It was already nightfall and everyone had gone to rest, except for the Crocodile, who volunteered to take the first guard shift. He glanced at Killian, and the pirate understood instantly: being the most powerful magician of the group, he wanted to stay vigilant and face Tinkerbell if she in fact decided to attack them or flee in the middle of the night. Sleep alluded him, however. His brain working overtime and the pressure in his chest tightening kept him awake. He glanced at the Crocodile's form, sitting by the waterfall, before turning on his back and focusing on the lulling sound of the falling water. He imagined he was back in the Jolly, and the sound were the waves crashing against the ship, easing his troubled mind. Eventually, he fell down the sweet edge of oblivion.

* * *

_He washed the last bits of soap from his now smooth face and glanced at the clock. A quarter to nine. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and combed his hair to the side before leaving to his shop downstairs. She'd be there any time._

_He caught sight of her crossing the street towards his shop through the windowpane and quickly turned around, busying himself with rearranging the ship models in the lower counter. He didn't want her to know he'd been waiting for her. The doorbell rang when the door opened and he smiled to himself before turning to face her._

_"Good morning," she practically sang, radiating happiness. He'd never seen her like that, and he liked it too much._

_"Would you like to...go out? Tonight?" his heart beat so fast during those agonizing seconds of waiting that he thought it would pop out of his chest. He saw the shock in her face before she smiled at him._

_"I'd love to."_

* * *

_ They were in a small boat together; moonbeams falling on her and giving her skin a silvery glow. He observed, mesmerized, her expression of wonder._

_"So beautiful," she breathed._

_Never taking his eyes off her, he thought exactly the same._

* * *

_They stood at her apartment door, hand in hand, trying to delay the inevitable goodbye. He wanted to be with her, to hold her and kiss her senseless, but he also could sense that she was a guarded woman who wouldn't give herself away so easily. Nor did he want her to. He found that he wanted to respect her wishes, get to know her, make her laugh and smile..._

_"__Thank you, Eric. _Tonight was wonderful."

_He bent down and brushed his lips against her soft cheek. The minute their skin made contact, a tingling sensation sent shivers down his spine and flooded his head with bizarre images._

_An old but well-maintained ship, railings painted with blue, yellow and red. Emma on the helm of said ship, manning it dexterously as the wind played with her golden hair. A girl with strangely-pointed ears and two big scars on her back; sparks igniting from her hands. _

_A tall tree standing apart from the others in the middle of a dense jungle, with a secret entrance by its trunk._

_Emma disappearing through that entrance._


	11. Hour of need

**A/N: Warning! This chapter contains attemped sexual assault. Nothing too explicit, but it's necessary to move the plot forward. Read at your own discretion or simply scroll past it.  
Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End - Blur~_

* * *

It took a really big effort not to groan in frustration. If there was an award for "Worst fucking timing _ever_", she was absolutely sure this Claude dude would win it. Her mind was still focused on how close she'd been from kissing Eric; it took her a second or two to process what he had said. Why he had so rudely interrupted them.

"What the hell?!" she snapped, seeing red. If looks could kill, the sheriff would be on the other side by now.

"You are under arrest. If you'd come with me to the station, please," he retorted, taking a step towards her and producing a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket.

"No way!" She exclaimed, stepping back and noticing from the corner of her eye the way Eric was glancing back and forth; his eyes moving from Emma to Claude and vice versa as if he were watching a tennis game.

_Fuck._

"You have no choice, miss. Let's go."

"I won't go anywhere until you tell me what it is that I've supposedly done."

"Stalking and harassment of a minor. The parents of the kid have filed a restraining order against you."

_Double fuck._

"Emma, what the hell?" Eric exclaimed, completely lost.

"Eric, it's not true. Believe me," she pleaded, locking eyes with him. Of all the things that were threatening to go downhill with this new turn of events, what worried Emma the most was Eric thinking she was a kind of creepy psycho and abandoning her. She let him read her with his eyes, not hiding anything from him. After all, she wasn't overly worried about him thinking that she was lying because even this Eric could read her like an open book. And she _wasn't_ lying. She'd never harassed Henry or forced him to do anything or to see her. Even his goddamn therapist could see that she was actually helping her!

Archie. Emma remembered with a shudder how he'd been blackmailed by Regina to frame her during her first week in Storybrooke. Was it possible that the same happened here, again?

"I believe you," Eric said finally, taking her out of her thoughts and calming her a little.

Once again, Sheriff Creepypants decided to interrupt their little moment. "True or not, the charges have been pressed and you are to come with me." He looked at her from head to toe with an openly leering and utterly disgusting look. "I really hope that dress won't be ruined by sleeping in the cell coat. It would be a shame," his tongue darted out and Emma almost gagged.

"Oi, you big git! Be respectful!" Eric roared, making Emma's head snap back at him. She'd never seen him like that. His blue eyes were clouded by a killing rage.

Claude turned to him and let out a short laugh. "And are _you_ going to make me, Stumpy? I'd like to see how."

Hurt and impotence flashed across Eric's eyes, but he said nothing. Emma reached for him, caressing his trembling hand softly with hers. "Don't worry, I'll be fine," she whispered, letting go and confronting Claude again. "Ok, fine. Let's go," she said dryly, climbing at the back of the police cruiser before she was told to. She heard the Sheriff close the front door of the car as he got into the driver's seat and then the engine of the car roar; but her eyes were glued to Eric's pained face, his figure standing still by her front door, watching her go until the car rounded a corner and he disappeared from Emma's sight.

* * *

Emma Swan was not proud of the fact that she'd been arrested a few too many times in her life, but at least she could take some kind of weird comfort in the thought that she hadn't been guilty of any account; all of the times she'd ended behind bars was because someone had plotted to put her there. Bunch of bastards.

And this one was definitely not the exception.

She barely registered what Claude was telling her; she thought that if she were a cartoon, there would be smoke coming out of her head right now at how hard she was trying to figure a way out of this. She came up with none.

Even if she managed to escape from the police station, she couldn't go back to her apartment and she didn't own a car or any other means of transportation as to leave town if necessary. Regina and/or Neal had obviously monitored her every move if they knew her address. Emma's heart clenched at the thought of what they would do to Henry now. Despite how much she disliked them in this world, she knew they would never hurt him; but they'd probably have him under house arrest to prevent him for searching for her.

Rough hands pushed her and she stumbled forwards, hands resting on the wall to steady her and prevent her from falling onto the jail cot. She turned around to see the sheriff locking the cell and twisting his mouth in an evil smirk.

Shooting laser beams out of her eyes, she sat down on the cot as gracefully as the situation allowed her to. It was probably after midnight by now, she felt exhausted but couldn't bring herself to sleep. Especially with that leering bastard five feet away.

"Don't you have somewhere else to go? Like, your house?" Emma snapped, unable to contain herself.

"It is my duty to see what the prisoner doesn't escape during the night," he replied, dragging the word 'prisoner' in a positively revolting way.

Just what she needed. The creepy dude considering her as part of some sexual fantasy of his.

Yeah, right. Keep dreaming, buddy.

However, he turned around from her and turned his attention to a big pile of paperwork on his desk. He worked on that for about twenty minutes, before putting it away and producing a small bottle with golden liquid inside.

"Enough of that for today," he murmured, taking a long swig of the liquor.

"How are you going to see that I don't escape if you're going to drink off your ass?" Emma asked dryly, taking his words from earlier.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I plan to keep a _close_ eye on you," he practically purred. She made a big show of rolling her eyes so he could take the hint that she was definitely not impressed at his rather not delicate advances before staring at the wall at the other side of the cell.

Minutes went by, but it felt like hours. She still hadn't moved a muscle, eyes fixed on the wall as she recalled happier memories that involved her son, her parents, and, not so surprisingly now, the pirate, to keep herself distracted.

"Do you want a drink?" Claude asked suddenly, dragging the syllables a little, as if his tongue had swollen. She snapped her head at him and saw that his bottle was almost empty.

"No, thanks," she said before turning her eyes away again.

"I'm sure you could use one, love," he said, and Emma nearly winced because only _one_ person called her by that particular term of endearment, and the word felt entirely wrong coming out from this guy's mouth.

"I said no, thank you," she repeated sternly.

She heard a little commotion behind her and turned around to see that he was approaching the cell with staggering steps. "You know, you look quite lovely in that little dress," he said in a low voice coated with lust and alcohol.

Oh, happy day.

"You know what, pal? In my life I've faced a lot of guys who were much more obnoxious than you, so don't think what you're doing is going to get you anywhere. I know how to handle creeps like you."

A glint of anger and something else, something dangerous, flashed through his eyes. The bottle slipped from his grasp, and the deafening sound of glass shattering in a million pieces filled the thick air.

"Really, bitch? You think you can handle me? Let's see how you do it, then," he roared, one hand reaching for the cell keys tucked in his belt and the other, to Emma's absolute horror, started massaging the growing bulge between his legs.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?!" she yelled at him, standing up from the cot as he fumbled with the keys until he found the right one and unlocked the cell door. His movements were unsteady due to the liquor; however, Emma couldn't take advantage of that because he opened the door just enough for him to slide in and closed it again behind him, effectively trapping them both in there. Even though he had left it unlocked, he had the keys and he was blocking Emma's way. There's no way she could get out avoiding skin contact.

She stood still while he kept coming towards her. When he was mere inches away, she quickly jerked her knee up and hit him straight in the groin. He let out a cry of pain and bent down. Emma used the opportunity to move round him towards the exit, but his arm suddenly wrapped around her waist and pushed her back so forcefully she tripped and fell on her back, twisting her ankle painfully in the process.

He laughed sickly at her. "I have you just how I wanted, little bitch. On your back and legs open wide," he said, approaching her again. She made a move to stand up but he pushed her down again with a great amount of alcohol-enhanced strength and towered over her. "Now let's see how you can handle it when I rip off your dress and fuck you until you pass out," he slurred.

"That will _never_ happen," she replied, using her good foot to kick his shins with all the strength she could muster. It worked though, as he finally fell on the ground with a grunt and a loud thud. She kicked him again in the stomach, succeeding in leaving him breathless and gasping for air, but for the second time he grabbed her and pulled her to him when she attempted to escape.

"You filthy whore!" he exclaimed through gritted teeth, grabbing her arm so hard to stop her from fleeing that she was sure he'd leave bruises. He forcefully straddled her despite her incessant kicking and squirming, trying to escape his grasp. She saw him undoing his belt before she closed her eyes and prayed to whichever deity was up there to help her.

The touch she was bracing herself for never happened, however. Instead, she heard a loud bang and felt her thighs free of Claude's weight. She slowly opened one eye and the sight before her was enough to make her break down and release a flood of tears.

"Killian," she breathed, barely audibly.

"What?" the man in front of her asked, confused.

_Focus, Emma. Same voice, same face, not exactly him. Right. _

"Nothing," she said quickly. She noticed that Eric was grabbing something in his only hand. She blinked the tears away and saw that it was a crowbar. Everything clicked into place now. Except for one thing...

"What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to stand up and letting out a cry of pain at the effort she put on her hurt ankle.

Eric promptly threw the crowbar on the ground and walked past Claude's unconscious form to extend his hand to her and help her stand up. "After he took you away, I went home. I felt...numb, uneasy, no idea why. I knew you didn't do anything wrong. I couldn't sleep, and the thought of you spending the night here with the bastard sheriff made me shudder. So I brought some money intending to bail you out," he explained while taking her out of the cell and making her sit in the sheriff's chair. "When I came in here and saw it, though..." he trailed off, his expression darkening and a muscle at his jaw twitching. But then he turned to examine her face and his eyes turned incredibly gentle. "He didn't hurt you, right?" he asked softly, lifting his hand to brush away her tears, to caress her hair lightly, as if he was afraid that she'd back away from skin contact mere minutes after a man had so obviously tried to abuse her.

She leaned into his touch, finding it comforting. "No, no," she assured him, and he visibly relaxed. "He was strong, but I managed to kick his ass a little bit," she added, smiling at him, a rush of satisfaction at remembering the guy's cries of pain when she had kicked him.

Awe coated his too-blue eyes when he locked them with hers, and a toothy smile graced his lips. "You're a tough lass, aren't you?"

"Some would say I'd make a great pirate," she commented, actually proud of her not-too-strained voice.

He chuckled. "I have no doubts about that." His smile disappeared as he glanced at the figure in the cell. "What do we do about _that_?" he spat.

Now that the adrenaline was wearing out, a prickle of uncertainty started to take over her. What should she do? Where would she go? How could she manage to see Henry again?

Eric suddenly moved away from her and she followed him with her eyes. He crouched beside Claude and clasped the handcuffs around his wrist and one of the cell bars. He got up and rubbed his hand against the rough material of his jeans, as if getting rid of dust. "That'll do for now. Come, I'll take you to your place."

Emma shook her head vehemently. "They'd go looking for me there again. I know who's trying to get rid of me and I know they'll just keep trying until I give up," she said with a hint of sadness.

He stared at her hard for a little eternity before speaking up again, his voice dripping conviction. "Then you'll stay in my apartment."

Surprise rendered her speechless for a good minute. "They'll come after you, then," she said when she managed to find her voice again. "This guy," she motioned to Claude with her head, "knew my name and my address, I've obviously been watched. They sure know that I spent a lot of time with you. When they find I'm not here or in my place, they'll go straight to you."

"Let them," he said simply, his face the image of fearlessness.

"They won't hesitate to hurt you," she warned, half-heartedly. She didn't want him to back away on his offer, but if Regina did something to him...

"I don't bloody care, lass, as long as you're safe," he said. He had never sounded more like her pirate. Her heart clenched, simultaneously filling her with affection towards Eric and despair at missing Killian. "Let's go to your place so you can pack some clothes and then you're coming with me," he said, leaving no room for arguments, as he guided her outside the station to his car.

Half an hour later, Eric had a black canvas bag full with Emma's clothes, shoes and other things such as brush, toothbrush and the like, and was holding a limping Emma by the waist –branding her with his burning touch–, walking as stealthily as possible down the alleyway behind his shop towards the back door. She took the keys to open it from his jacket pocket, as his hand was still on her, and when she did, she saw the small hall that led to the front of the shop and a flight of stairs leading to the first floor, where his apartment must be. She locked the door behind them after they were in, and, with no warning except for a muttered "Sorry, lass," Eric looped his handless arm behind her knees, carrying her bridal style up the stairs. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders in order not to fall down; the closeness and the scent emanating from him muddling her brain and numbing her senses. They reached a white door and, using the key he'd indicated, Emma opened the door to his home.

It was small, walls white and plain with no pictures or signs and simple and practical furniture; no decorative stands or vases. Quite the opposite from the captain's cabin in the Roger. He took her to the beige couch in the corner of the living area and carefully deposited her there, extending her injured leg to rest along the seat. He disappeared behind a corner and came back a few moments later with a dishtowel wrapping what she supposed was several ice cubes. He kneeled in front of her, gingerly removed her black shoe and placed the dishtowel on her swollen ankle. She hissed at the coldness against her skin and he sent her an apologetic smile.

"Thank you," she whispered, suddenly overcome with emotion, recalling her scratches Killian that had mended after their treks through Neverland and the time she had taken care of his bruised head.

"Anytime," he replied, smiling at her. Even in the dimness of the apartment, Emma could see the dark shadows beneath his eyes.

"Go to sleep, you have to get up early for work tomorrow," she said. She saw his hesitance, so she leaned forward and placed her hand on his. "I'll be fine. I'll just stay here while you're out, trying to figure out how to get out of this quicksand trap."

He nodded, hiding a yawn behind his hand. "Take the bed, I'll sleep here," he said.

"No, don't worry. I'm more than fine here," she assured him. "Plus, I don't want to hop all the way there."

He chuckled and handed her a blanket that was lying beside the couch. "Okay. Sleep tight, lass."

He disappeared to his room, and Emma quickly changed into her cotton pajamas and threw the blanket over her body, a feeling of safety filling her and lulling her to sleep.

She woke up what felt like only minutes later, prompted by the sweet smell of coffee. Rubbing sleep off her eyes, she got up gingerly, gladly noticing that there was nothing but a dull ache in her ankle now. Following the smell, she found herself in Eric's small kitchen and saw him pouring the liquid in two mugs.

"Morning," she said. He turned to her, surprised, and then shook his head.

"How am I supposed to bring you breakfast to bed –or, the couch– when you get up and limp here for it all by yourself?" he jokingly chastised her. He handed her a mug and a plate full of toasts, jam and peanut butter.

"Thank you," she replied simply, smiling at him and sitting down by the table, taking a sip of coffee and reveling in the strong taste of the hot beverage.

"How's the ankle?"

"Much better, actually. Still, I think I should lie down and not put pressure on it. I'll go insane prostrated here."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"You've already done too much, Eric. Really."

"So...you've already thought about your next move in your secret mission?" he probed her.

"Not yet...I need to contact someone, but now it's going to be very, very hard."

"Who? I can be of assistance," he suggested. Emma studied his face as he chewed his own toast distractedly. There was no ulterior motive there, just an honest desire to help her.

She took a deep breath.

_Now or never. After all he's done, he deserves it._

"Henry Cassidy."

He frowned in confusion for a second before recognition made him open his eyes wide. "The Mayor's son? Why?"

Emma pressed the heel of her hands against her temples before looking up at him again. "Alright," she answered, finally, "I'll tell you why I'm in town."

* * *

**_Again, thanks so much for all your lovely responses to my story, you're too sweet! I'm sorry if the almost-rape scene was too much, but I felt I needed something powerful enough to trigger Eric's inner pirate and turn him into what I like to call *wait for it* KILLERIC. *ba dum tss* Til next time!_**


	12. Parting ways

**A/N:** As always, thank you from the botton of my aortic pump for your reviews, follows and favorites!  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End-Blur~_

* * *

Morning lights were coloring the Neverland sky in a magnificent display of gradient shades red, orange and yellow peeking through the soft clouds. It was truly a sight to behold. Too bad for Killian Jones that his mind was too preoccupied with more pressing affairs than a pretty view of the sky.

He woke up panting from his latest dream and lied still for an undetermined amount of time, focusing on remembering even the tiniest detail possible. One or two droplets of sweat fell from his brow and his body was starting to protest the stiff position, but he made no attempt to move. He had been sure that his dream from the night before had been some kind of powerful hallucination induced by the nearly poisonous amounts of alcohol he had consumed, but now he knew that it couldn't be it. It was not possible that that were the right answer when he had just woken up from a similar dream and his system was liquor-free. There was something else about the whole ordeal.

He had seen his own reflection in the mirror, the image being foreign to him at first because it had been centuries since he had been beardless, a young boy turning into a man – he had turned into a man emotionally many years before the first physical signs started to appear, nevertheless. Emma was there, looking magnificent, laughing and smiling in a way he had never seen before and that he longed to see again. Flashes from another sequence showed the blonde woman again; stunningly gorgeous in a _very_ short and _very_ tight dress. The mere image behind his eyelids unwillingly sent a shoot of electricity right to his groin.

Focusing in the dream once more and ignoring his biological needs – _Damn you Swan, you bloody siren, for doing this to me!_ –, he recalled that he had taken her out to a boat ride in an attempt to woo her. A "date", it was called in Emma's world according to what he had heard when he'd been there. Laughing, more of that wobbly blue substance called jeloh or something like that, walking hand in hand, a shy kiss on her cheek. And then everything exploded in his mind.

In his nearly four hundred years of life, Killian Jones had seen and experienced many a strange event, but nothing quite compared what happened when his dream-self kissed Emma. As soon as his lips came in contact with her skin, Eric, his other persona, could see things from _this _reality. To Killian, it felt almost like a dream within a dream.

But was it even a dream at all?

Throughout the centuries, he had visited many realms and seen all kinds of magic, good and bad. He had heard about realities merging and defying the boundaries between them when there was strong magic involved, connecting them. But he had never been in presence of such phenomenon.

_Until now_, he concluded after thinking about the subject for a long time.

When pale blue replaced the coloring of the sky and the sunrays filtered among the vegetation covering his location, he hastily got up and walked forward, noticing that the Crocodile was still sitting in the entrance of the cave, leaning on his cane and inspecting the surroundings with narrowed eyes. Killian stopped in front of him with an inquiring gaze and the imp shook his head lightly, silently communicating that nothing extraordinary had happened overnight. Killian looked over his shoulder to Tinkerbell, who was still sleeping peacefully, curved into a ball like a small cat. He sighed, still refusing to believe in the possibility that she was a foe. He had seen her flying with Emma, so, so far, her story didn't give rise to any suspicions.

Stretching his arms to get rid the spasms on his back for sleeping in the stony ground, Killian proceeded to start a fire to cook breakfast, a big hare-like animal Charming had hunted the night before. Methodically, clinically, he concentrated in his task, barely registering the sounds and movements of people waking up behind him, trying his best to ignore the now familiar heaviness in his heart. After an undetermined period of time, a little figure sat next to him.

"That looks good," Tink commented, settling next to him and crossing her legs Indian-style, observing at the animal that he was roasting over the fire.

"I've always been known for my outstanding culinary skills," Killian smirked, not letting his unease show. Tinkerbell laughed quietly and rested her head on his shoulder. "How are you feeling?" he asked, fighting the strange urge to back away from her contact.

"Better, thanks. I guess I really needed to sleep."

"How about your magic? Do you feel it's still restrained?" he asked casually, using his hook to spin the stick with the animal impaled in it and counting the heartbeats until she spoke again.

_One, two, three, four...it's taking too long._

"Why do you ask?" she said in a low voice full of surprise and uncertainty. Apparently he'd caught her off guard.

He shrugged. "Maybe we can use it to go find Emma. Besides, I care for your wellbeing." It wasn't a lie. That's why it hurt so much to say it.

She didn't answer, and she also didn't have to, because right then the rest of the group approached them and started helping themselves with the food. Snow gave everyone equal rations of a juicy yellow fruit that she had stored in her bag and they ate the fruit and the hare in silence, each of them immersed in their own thoughts.

"What will be our plan for today, Captain?" Snow asked after they had cleared out the last of their meal.

"I believe that we should resume the way we were following before our encounter with the Lost Ones," he stated, and saw the small woman and her husband nod. "There is a reason why they attacked us right there and then. I'm sure we were approaching their den."

"Sounds like the most practical option, and it's probably that Henry is there, too," the Queen agreed.

"Maybe..." David started, only to stop abruptly, scratching his chin in thought. "Maybe Tinkerbell can retrace the way the Lost Ones were taking her yesterday, and lead us straight to the place where they were keeping her. It's very likely that Emma is there."

"I told you I don't know if she is..." Tinkerbell said in a weak voice.

"I know, but I think it's the safest bet. Why would they keep her somewhere else?"

"Charming's right. How long were you walking with them until we found you, honey?" Snow asked Tinkerbell sweetly.

"It's hard to tell...I was sore and weak and tired, I didn't exactly keep track of the time. Judging from the nightfalls, about a day and a half, I think," the pixie said, not overly convinced.

Four faces turned to Killian. It seemed that whenever they were at a crossroads, he was the one to make the decisions, and if something went wrong, he was also the one to blame. _So fucking fair._

Admittedly, the Prince's idea was not bad. It was highly probable that Emma would be in the same place where Tink was kept. But at the same time, everything inside him kept telling him to go up the north-west border, that the solution would be there...

"I think we should split," he said finally, ignoring the looks of shock of his little audience. "I am fully convinced that following the western border of the Lost Ones' territory is the right choice, but the Prince here also makes a plausible point. Going to both places will take a great deal of time."

_And it might be too late._

"How can you be so convinced, though?" Regina asked, brown eyes narrowing at him.

"Let's call it a gut feeling," he smirked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"The pirate is right. Doing both journeys would take precious time we can't afford to lose. Unless, of course, our pixie friend here should be so kind as to provide us her assistance to fly," Rumplestiltskin interjected smoothly.

Tinkerbell looked at him with her grey deer-like eyes. "I don't feel strong enough to fly, let alone to produce enough pixie dust for all of you," she said, apologetic.

"Then, covering both grounds at the same time seems to be our best choice, if you ask me," he replied.

A tense silence covered them like a heavy blanket, the only sound coming from the water crashing over the rocks a few feet away.

"Okay," Snow said, determined and nodding to herself. "How do we do this?"

"It'd probably be wise to have one person able to handle magic in each group. I volunteer to accompany Miss Tinkerbell in the longest of the journeys," the Crocodile said.

"I'll go with you," David said. "It was my idea after all."

"Charming," the Princess started, biting her lip worriedly, but was promptly cut off by her husband, who placed his hand on her shoulders and caressed them lightly.

"It's the fastest way to get to our daughter and grandson, and you know it. Don't worry, Snow. You know our thing," he said, smiling lovingly. "I will always find you."

The woman nodded and hugged him, closing her glassy eyes. Killian looked away from the lovebirds, feeling a little uncomfortable with their display of affection, and saw how Regina rolled her eyes at them. Gold cleared his throat lightly to break the moment.

"We should get ready soon," he said.

They spent the following minutes dividing the supplies in two groups, sharpening swords and daggers and tensing bows. All the time, Killian debated with himself as he used a metal file on the pointy edge of his hook, making it lethal for any enemy that may come his way.

It was too personal to go around and divulge it to someone else, let alone to his sworn enemy, the Evil Queen and Emma's parents. For the first time in gods know how long, he experienced a feeling long forgotten: embarrassment. It was really quite comical that the fearless and _feared_ Captain Hook, respected and well-known in nearly all the existing lands was _embarrassed_ to admit out loud that he'd been having prophetic-like, reality-blending dreams that involved Emma.

_But it may save her life..._

"People, gather round, please," he ordered. They were no longer on the Jolly but they still obeyed his commands, which was extremely convenient.

He produced from his pocket the worn-out map of Neverland that they'd been using for almost two months now and placed it on the ground, for everyone to see.

"We're here," he said, pointing at an invisible spot with his hook. "The Queen, the Princess and myself will go back to the path we were following yesterday and continue to survey the frontiers of the Lost Ones' ground, moving northward. The Prince, Tinkerbell and Rumplestitskin will head in the opposite direction, presumably. While you're on your way, please pay close attention and see if you can spot the following," he turned to Gold and Regina. "Would any of you produce something for me to draw with?"

The woman looked shocked with the request. However, she conjured a small charcoal pencil and handed it to him. Killian turned over the map and started sketching, focusing on rendering the most faithful depiction of what he had seen in his dream. When he was over, he stepped back to allow the rest of them to have a look.

"A tree?" Regina scoffed. "You've probably have noticed that there are trees aplenty here."

"Your opinion on my intelligence is rather offensive, milady, especially taking into account that such intelligence has saved the lives of all of us on more than one occasion," Killian spat, effectively shutting her up. "Besides, as you can see, this tree is different from the kind we've seen so far in the jungle. It's about sixty feet tall, ten feet wide, and it stands alone, slightly apart from the rest of the grove covering the edge of a clearing. For all its robust appearance, the trunk is probably hollow."

"Why do we need to find that tree?" David asked.

Killian took a deep breath and braced himself.

"Because I saw Emma disappearing inside that tree through a hole."

"WHAT?" "HOW?" "What the f...?" They were all the reactions he expected. Tinkerbell looked at him open-mouthed, as well as the Charmings and the Queen. The Crocodile, however, seemed to be silently considering that piece of information, deep in thought.

"For two nights now, since Emma disappeared, I've dreamed that I'm in the Land Without Magic with her. At first I thought it was a product of the magic that blankets this place, but last night, I saw Emma and Tinkerbell flying through the jungle and Emma going inside that tree. I don't know the location of said tree, but I'm almost certain that she is still there," he said, feeling a weight lifting from his shoulders.

"What does that mean? Why can you see that?" Snow asked, appalled. It was almost as if she was really asking him why he could see her daughter and she couldn't.

"I know not, your Highness," he answered, feeling a strange pang of sympathy for the woman.

"Tinkerbell, did you see Emma and the tree too?" David asked the pixie, who was still sporting a distant look, eyebrows scrunched together and jaw slightly dropped.

She shook herself and regained her composure. "No," she answered. "It must have happened when I was already unconscious. _If _it happened at all," she stressed.

"What are you implying?" Killian asked her, narrowing his eyes.

"You know better than anyone what this place does to a human's mind, Hook," she told him, in the way a mother explains her toddler why it's bad to eat sweets before dinner.

"Don't patronize me, Tinkerbell, of course I know," he said, barely holding his anger. "And I assure you what I experienced is quite real."

"No one knows better than me how much I loathe agreeing with him," the Crocodile said, finally breaking the silence, "but Hook here is having an astonishing strike of clarity, and he is right in this account as well. It is quite evident that he and Miss Swan share a connection that allows him to see what she is seeing, what she is experiencing."

"Wait a minute," Regina said suddenly. "If Hook dreams that he is in Storybrooke with Miss Swan...is she really there?"

"It's hard to tell, dearie. Most likely, she's under some kind of curse, and her subconscious is connected with the pirate's when they are both submitted to it. Namely, when they sleep."

"And their connection means True Love?" Snow wondered, seemingly forgetting that one of the people they were talking about was _in front of them._

"As much as I enjoy being the topic of your discussion even when I am right here," he huffed, annoyed and eager to put an end to the dangerous twist the conversation had taken, "we really ought to part soon."

They took another moment to memorize the drawing of the tree before leaving their safe haven and, without saying a word, took off in opposite directions.


	13. Hideout

**A/N: **Thank you so much for your feedback and support! Here, have another one, now from _Eric's POV._ I hope you like it!  
**Disclaimer:** Nope.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End- Blur~_

* * *

"Let me get this straight. You...are...Henry's _birth mother_?" he asked after a tense silence, eyes fixed on Emma, sitting in front of him and rubbing her temple furiously. She sighed.

"Yeah, I am."

"And you're here because he's in danger?" He knew he looked incredibly stupid, repeating what she had just said as if he had some kind of mental disability, but she just nodded.

"That's right," she confirmed patiently.

"What kind of danger?"

Emma bit her lip, eyeing him with evident worry. Eric could see that she was internally debating what to share with him.

"You wouldn't believe me," she whispered finally.

An unfamiliar anger started to rise from the pit of his stomach. "I told you I wanted to help you, and I really do, but you have no idea how bloody frustrating it is to be in the dark. You got freaking arrested last night! You said they'd come after you again and after me too, but I don't have a bloody clue about anything!"

He hadn't meant to be so passionate about it, but he just felt like he was about to explode. "When I walked into the sheriff station last night and saw him trying to..." he shut his eyes, unable to say it out loud. "I panicked for your safety; and I realized that... I know we've met only a few weeks ago but I...I care about you, I don't want anything to happen to you. And it's bloody well annoying that I'm willing to do so many things to protect you and putting myself on the line, as you said, and you still won't tell me what the hell is going on."

She looked petrified, staring at him with wide eyes that, for once, he wasn't able to read. She opened and closed her mouth many times, as if wanting to say something and then deciding not to. Finally, she slowly reached out until her hand grabbed his, resting on the table. He looked at their joined hands and then at the sad yet beautiful expression of her face.

"I know it's maddening to have no idea of what is going on, and I'm really sorry that I've been so vague about it," she said, voice full of emotion, "but I'm really trying to protect _you_. The less you know, the safest you'll be. This is my fight; I don't want you to be collateral damage."

Now it was his turn to be petrified. Emma, this amazing girl, so passionate and fiery, was trying to keep him out of the apparently imminent danger that loomed over her. It warmed his heart, but at the same time it made him feel useless. Old weak Eric, he was the man, _he _was the one who should be taking care of her, and not conversely. He turned his hand under hers so he could intertwine their fingers, and squeezed.

"I appreciate that, lass, I really do," he said, "but if the situation is as bad as you hint it is, I think it would be better if we worked together to find a solution. We'd be quite the team." He smirked before sobering his face. "You say I won't believe your full explanation...you don't want to tell me, and I respect that, but give me something to work on here, love."

They stayed like that, hands and eyes locked for a long time, until Emma gently retreated her hand and placed both of hers on the table, tapping the fingertips against the wood in a nervous tic.

"I told you I know who was behind my arrest last night. It's Regina," she said. "When I had Henry...I was very young, and broken, and I didn't have anything to offer him so I gave him away in hopes he'd have a family that would give him everything I couldn't." She took a deep breath before going on. "After many years I found out that Regina adopted him, and that he wasn't happy."

"You're here to help your son feel better and the Mayor is not happy about it," he said gently.

Emma nodded. "Yes, something like that. She wants me to stay away from him. And I know she orchestrated what happened last night because she has done things like that before, to keep me from Henry."

Eric blew out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I always knew Madam Mayor was someone you didn't mess with, but I didn't imagine that she would go as far as doing something so evil. I'm sorry, love."

She gave him a weak smile. Eric's heart broke for her. Fighting for her son's welfare with none other than the most powerful and unprincipled person in town must have been exhausting and extremely difficult for Emma. Now he understood a little better why she didn't want to tell him at first.

"When she goes to the sheriff station and sees that bastard chained to the cell, she'll start looking for me again and finding an even worse way to drive me out of town," Emma said, looking at him through her eyelashes. "She'll try to probe you, see if she can take anything from you about me. She might even hurt you."

"You know, as touched as I am about your concern for me, I'm starting to think that you believe me some useless twat unable to defend myself. I know I don't give off the macho pirate vibe, but still..." he trailed off, feigning annoyance but unable to suppress a tiny smirk.

Emma laughed heartily at his attempt of a joke, and the tension that had filled the room moments before was now nowhere to be seen – or felt. "Sorry," she said, scrunching her nose adorably.

"Not offense taken, darling." He glanced at the clock and realized that he was running late. He quickly stood up and grabbed his keys from the kitchen table. "I must go to the shop now. Just...stay here and make yourself at home. Use the shower, the computer, whatever you want," he offered her a small smile. Suddenly he remembered something that could prove to be useful. "Come," he said, motioning for her to follow him. "I found this by chance some time ago," he explained, going into his bedroom and hearing her footsteps behind him. He walked to his massive closet that reached up to the low ceiling. "You know, I've always used the left side of this closet because I don't have enough clothes to fill all of it. The other day I was inspecting the right side, to see if I could maybe cut it and make a smaller closet that wouldn't occupy so much room, and I found this." He opened the heavy wooden door and revealed...

"There's nothing there," Emma pointed out, looking confused at the empty space within the piece of furniture, big enough for a person to fit in comfortably.

"Ah!" he said dramatically. He softly pushed the panel on the back and it became loose. He pushed it to the side until it disappeared behind the left side of the wardrobe. "A slide door." He turned around and noticed with a rush of pride Emma's stunned expression, jaw hanging open. The door revealed the raw brick wall behind it and an iron fire-escape ladder attached to it. "The ladder leads to a small attic. It's dirty and dusty and practically inhospitable, but I figured that...in case the sheriff or someone else comes here looking for you, it's a good place to hide."

He closed the slide door and the closet wall and turned to face Emma, who was still looking at the closet as if it was the answer of all of her problems. "Amazing," she breathed in awe.

"I know," he agreed. "Now, I really must open the shop. I'll be back in a few hours," he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly and quickly left the apartment, bouncing downstairs, taking two steps at the time, to the nautical shop.

* * *

Days in the shop usually were long and seemingly endless, and today was no exception. Furthermore, it seemed that that particular perception was enhanced today. It didn't help that Eric was purposely on edge, expecting the Sheriff or the Mayor to storm in and force him to divulge Emma's location at gunpoint.

(Okay, maybe he watched too much TV and was being overly dramatic).

While polishing the ship models for the third time in two hours, he heard the door open behind him and his body stilled, tense, for a second, before he consciously ordered it to relax and play cool.

"Hey there, lovebird," Leroy's gruff voice called, and Eric turned around, trying to hide his evident relief.

"Morning, Leroy. Coming for your boat keys?"

"That I am," the short man said, shooting him a cheeky grin. "So how did it go last night? Threw her overboard by accident?"

Eric laughed shortly while extracting the keys of Leroy's boat and handing them to him. "Nope, thank goodness. You have such a poor concept of my sailing abilities," he said with a tsk.

"And how's my baby?" Leroy asked, all traces of humor disappearing from his face in a blink of an eye.

"If you go to the harbor you'll see her perfectly resting in her dock, with everything still intact and the gas tank full."

"You better, Davidson," he shook a threatening finger towards him. "Anyway, I'm late for work. See you around, kid."

"Bye, Leroy, and thanks," he called as the other man left the place waving his hand in acknowledgement.

Around noon, he closed the shop and headed for Granny's to grab lunch. As usual, the diner was quite crowded, so he went straight to the counter behind which Ruby was fixing some orders and called her.

"Two dishes of lasagna to go, please."

"Coming right up, handsome!" she replied cheerfully before disappearing.

"Two dishes? Having company, mister Davidson?" a female voice asked beside him in a falsely curious tone.

_Don't screw it, Eric. Channel your inner Shakespearean actor._

"I wish," he said, turning to the woman and shrugging lightly in a gesture that said 'It is what it is, what can we do about it?'. "No, I'll just store one in the fridge and heat it for dinner. Timesaver."

"Ah," the Mayor said; eyes intense on his face despite the generally kind expression of her features. "I can imagine. Anyway, you did have company last night, or so I was told."

Eric smiled, bemused. "Who would have thought that the town Mayor liked the gossip," his smile widened so she wouldn't take it as an offense, despite the fact that he really wanted her to go away.

Regina chuckled. "I don't, but I have unfinished business concerning your date, so I deemed appropriate to ask _you_ about her." Her previously amiable smile was nowhere to be seen now.

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning and adopting a confused stance.

"Miss Swan has been molesting my son. I filed a complaint and she was duly arrested last night."

"I'm aware of that, I was there when the sheriff took her."

"However," she went on as if he hadn't said anything, "this morning I went to the sheriff station to have a personal talk with Miss Swan and what do I find?"

"I've no clue."

"The cell door open, the Sheriff unconscious, handcuffed to a bar, and the woman gone." Her voice turned to ice.

Eric opened his eyes, feigning surprise and hiding his amusement at the thought that _he_ had been the one to put the sheriff in such situation. "Well, she seems to have quite the gumption," he commented.

"Mister Davidson, I'm not one to play around or to be played around with. Miss Swan is a fugitive now."

"If you're trying to ask me if I had anything to do with that or if I have seen her since, I'm afraid I can't give you the answer you're looking for," he said, grabbing the paper bags Ruby had placed in front of him on the counter and paying her for the food. "Yes, we went out last night. It was quite lovely until the sheriff turned up and took her to the station. That's the last I saw of her."

Regina nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. "I trust that if she contacts you or if you see her around town, you'll obey your duty as a citizen of this town and turn her in. Remember that failing to do so constitutes collusion, and it's punishable by law." The underlying threat was more than obvious, but Eric simply nodded at the woman.

"Don't worry, Madam Mayor. Rest assured that I will do the right thing if I happen to hear from her again. Have a nice day." He smiled politely and left the diner in direction to his apartment. When he was sure that he was out of Regina's sight, the bags he was carrying started to tremble and bump against his leg due to the movements of his shaky hand.

* * *

"Emma?" he called softly after locking the apartment door behind him and placing the takeout bags on the kitchen table. She was nowhere to be seen.

For a minute, Eric panicked, his breathing coming ragged. Had the Sheriff broken in and caught her again? Had Regina paid a visit to his apartment before she oh-so casually ran into him at the diner?

Then he remembered what he had shown Emma this morning, and went to his room. He opened the secret door of the closet and looked up to the attic. It was pitch-black. "Lass?"

He heard rustling noises upstairs and, seconds later, Emma's form started climbing down the iron ladder. He stepped back to give her room, and, in the process, admired her amazing denim-clad legs. "You scared me for a second," he admitted.

She turned to face him and sent him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. In all fairness, you scared me first," she laughed, traces of nervousness still present in the sound. "I didn't know you were coming up and I heard noises from the stairs..."

"'S alright, sweetheart," he said, then he beamed at her. "I brought us lunch."

She smiled. "Cool. I was about to start fixing something to eat, actually." They went to the kitchen and only then Eric noticed the faint smell of lemon and the shininess of the floors and counters.

"Did you clean the apartment?!" Emma shrugged. "I didn't bring you here so you could be my Cinderella, you know."

"I was bored and my ankle doesn't hurt anymore," she said simply, sitting on a wooden chair and grabbing the box with the lasagna that he handed her. "Anything knew?" she asked him, burying her fork in the food with a little more force than necessary.

"Well, I had a rather interesting chat with our honorable town ruler," he said before taking a bite of his own dish.

Emma groaned. "I knew she'd go looking for you," she said through gritted teeth. "What did she say?"

"She simply informed me that you are officially an outlaw and that should I have any contact with you, I am to have you arrested again or otherwise I'll be considered an accomplice."

She muttered something that sounded very much like 'Bitch'. "She didn't suspect of you, did she?"

"No, I'm pretty sure she didn't," Eric replied, and Emma visibly relaxed. "I'll have you know, I'm quite the actor," he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She blonde snorted. "Yeah, right."

"Oi! Don't say that, you've never seen me act!" Eric exclaimed, not a little offended by her condescending disbelief in his skills.

She immediately sobered up and watched him with eyes full of...longing? "Not that you remember," she said in a voice so low he almost didn't hear her.

* * *

_**So...did you think she was going to tell Killeric (HE'S KILLERIC TO ME NOW OKAY) about the curse? Sorry for that :P but in my opinion, neither of them is ready for that. They still need to get a little bit closer ;)**_

_**Thanks so much for all your support! Reviews make my day :D**_


	14. Complications

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

_Well you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End-Blur~_

* * *

The Neverland heat was suffocating, even more than usual. Despite being used to wearing black garments, Killian felt like he was about to burst into flames and smoke would start to come out of his body under the unforgiving rays of the blazing orange sun.

Glancing back, he saw that the two women following him seemed to be in no better condition, enduring the heat and exhaustion the best they could but slowly losing the battle, too.

It was odd. They had been in this realm for quite a long time and it was unavoidable that they would eventually break down due to the physical and emotional stress they'd constantly been under. However, the general mood had been livelier and the energy rate higher before they departed from the hidden waterfall, taking the road to the west while the other three headed towards the opposite direction; all of them in search of the oneiric tree where he'd seen Emma disappear.

They'd only walked for approximately two hours, yet it felt like they'd been on the move for days straight. They were advancing much slower than they usually did in normal circumstances, limbs feeling like lead. They still hadn't even returned to the path along the Lost Ones' land they'd been following before the attack. Despite the protein provided by the hare and the night's rest, Killian was starting to feel utterly drained, which was quite strange.

"You sure there wasn't anything off with the food, Hook?" Regina asked behind him, words leaving her mouth with difficulty between labored breaths.

"The animal, the fruit and the water were in perfect condition, I made sure of that," he replied, not even bothering to turn his head and face her.

"Then why this sudden feeling of heaviness?" she countered back.

"We know that there is magic in the air here, and the Captain said before that something obviously doesn't want us to go the way we were going," Snow said, voice calm and slow, and if logically trying to work out her reasoning as she was saying the words. "Maybe it's the same now."

Killian considered it silently for a few moments, never breaking pace. Yes, it made sense. He had never seen that Neverland _itself_ working against foreigners; the task was always reserved for and performed by its many lethal inhabitants. Enraged Indians, merciless mermaids, deranged Lost Ones, even the pretty purple flowers that caused instant death if touched by bare skin. However, if what they were heading to was so important that it required to be protected at all costs, it was entirely possible that the magic that loomed the air manifested in some form to slow them down. Maybe gradually suck up all their energy until...

"You have a sharp brain, m'lady," Killian praised, letting the petite woman know that he agreed with her theory. A couple of yards away, he spotted a tall tree with wide foliage which surely provided freshness and shelter from the burning sunrays. Signaling at it with his hook, he called the women. "We should get some rest."

Momentarily invigorated by the prospect of taking refuge under the shadows of the tree, the three people quickened their pace and soon, they were emitting relieved sighs as they plopped unceremoniously on the cool and mossy ground under the branches of the tree. Snow took a gulp from her water flask and passed it to Regina, who did the same before giving it to Killian.

"So you too think that the cause of our state is unnatural?" Snow asked him, closing her eyes and resting her head against the bark.

Killian took a couple more gulps, not wanting to drink all the water despite the terrible thirst he was suddenly experiencing, and gave back the flask to its owner. "Most certainly. All of us were practically in perfect health condition before setting out and now neither of us can resist longer than a two-hour walk. I don't think it's due to the humid weather."

Snow nodded, and directed to her stepmother. "Regina," she said lowly, almost shyly, "do you think you can... I don't know, do some spell that will make us feel more...energetic?" she stuttered.

Regina shook her head, exhaling loudly. "I thought about trying, but no," she answered; her usually cold and snapping tone gone, replaced by a hint of regret. "My magic is powerful, but I can't change the states of human nature. I can't make hunger, tiredness or the need for...evacuation disappear. I am a human myself, after all."

Killian's ears perked up at that last comment. "Do you mean that a non-human magical creature would be able to interfere in such states?"

Both brunettes lifted their heads at him, understanding flashing across their features. "Hypothetically, yes," she answered, finally. "Despite his current appearance, Rumplestiltskin is not human. He stopped being one when he became the Dark One," she added after a beat or two of silence.

"Still, in which way slowing us down and draining our energy could possibly benefit him?" Snow White asked.

Regina shrugged. "He is essentially a chess player. His every move is always carefully planned."

Another silence fell over them, leaving each one to their own thoughts. Killian's, quite frankly, were a bloody mess now.

He felt exhausted, body and mind, and he wasn't sure about anything anymore. It was difficult to think. He tried to see everything as objectively as possible.

He had first-hand knowledge about the Crocodile's slyness and how it was very possible that he had made Killian doubt about Tinkerbell's loyalty just to avoid any suspicion towards the imp. He had volunteered to go with her and Charming. Was he planning to do anything to her and then pretend that they'd been double-crossed and ambushed? It certainly wouldn't be unfit for him; and it was the idea that Killian's soul welcomed the most.

However...

The Crocodile _did _have a point when it came to Tinkerbell. The fact that she had first led them to a wrong location and then was captured with Emma could be attributed to terribly bad luck, but was it all? And she was certainly reluctant to the idea of them resuming their quest. It was probably wishful thinking, but she did seem distant and worried when he mentioned his dreams about Emma...

"More water, Captain?" Snow's voice broke his thoughts, and he opened his eyes to see her hand extended in front of him, holding the flask.

"No, thanks, your Highness," he replied, managing a small polite smile.

"You can call me Snow, you know," she said, smiling too, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Something wrong, Snow?" he asked her, trying her suggestion. She chuckled lightly, shaking her head.

"I just don't like the idea that something is magically trying to stop us. It makes me worried about what kind of magic or power Emma is under."

"I'm more than sure that your daughter will give hell to whoever has her," he offered, unable to resist the sudden urge to offer comfort to the childless mother. After all, he had seen with his own eyes how painful that kind of situation was.

Snow smiled. "True. Killian," she said, looking at him with pleading eyes. "Can you...I need to know how she...can you tell me how your dreams work?"

Killian sighed. He'd been waiting for this question ever since he had told the lot about his dreams. He'd seen the look on the woman's face when he said it and knew was only a matter of time before she brought it up. He cast a glance at Regina's form at Snow's other side. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing even, as if she were sleeping.

_The hell with it all._

"I'm not quite sure, m'lady," he said honestly. "The night she flew away with Tink, I woke up with an alien feeling of heaviness that I haven't got rid of since. The following night I had the first dream. I remember but glimpses of it. I was supposedly a Storybrooke citizen with another name and personality, and she was there, too. I blamed it on the rum I had drunk before falling asleep, but I had another dream like that last night as well." He wasn't going to tell her that his dream-self had taken Emma on a date. And _of bloody course_, he didn't even intend to mention that the mere memory sent a burning anger to his heart. How pathetic was it to be jealous of _yourself_? Granted, the Eric man was the complete opposite of him in terms of appearance and personality, but deep down Killian knew, somehow, that they were the same.

_Yes, no need to let the lass know any of this, especially with the bloody Queen within earshot._

Snow didn't answer for a long time, pondering the newly acquired information he had provided. "I just... I wish I could see her," she managed in a cracked voice.

In a completely uncharacteristic move, Killian patted the back of Snow's hand lightly. "I know," he answered just as lowly before withdrawing his hand and getting up hastily. "We've rested enough. Time to keep moving."

Time was an illusion in Neverland; there were days and nights but their frequency and duration varied randomly. Nonetheless, the general pattern was pretty much regular, a couple hours more or a couple less. This time, however, pink and orange lines started bleeding from the sky not long after they had made their way back to their original trail – they had had to take a detour to avoid the decomposing bodies of the Lost Ones that had tried to kill them the day before. Tiredness no longer clouded Killian's mind and body; his sixth sense making his blood bubble with recognition and telling him that he was getting closer. He was getting to Emma.

He caught sight of movement in the corner of his eye and turned his head to see Snow White spinning the wedding band on her finger and looking at the ground with a small frown. "Worried about your Charming?"

Her head shot up to him, she was so deep in her thoughts that his voice had obviously startled her. "I just miss him. But I know he's alright, so no, I'm not really worried."

"May I ask how you have obtained this knowledge?"

He wasn't being rude. Just genuinely curious. And she knew it. She inspected his face for a few moments and sent him a knowing smile.

"It's the True Love thing. When he is in danger, I can feel it. When Regina made me eat a poisoned apple," –he was fairly impressed that she said it so casually as if the person she was talking about wasn't a foot away, listening; and he was even more impressed at the fact that Regina didn't make any kind of comment or biting remark –, "he knew that something bad had happened to me because he had these shooting pains in his chest. At least, that's what he told me later," she added as an afterthought, unaware of the Captain's wide eyes and the way his breathing had become shallower.

It couldn't be. It certainly could not be.

Just thinking about the smallest possibility was utterly preposterous.

_Then why did you wake up that first night?_

_Why can you visit her in your sleep when not even her own mother can?_

_Why does every moment you spent away from her make you feel as if your heart is slowly bleeding out?_

The sudden realization hit him like a tidal wave, washing out all his doubts and pains and sorrows and leaving nothing but the plain truth.

He bloody fucking loved Emma Swan.

True Love? It was too soon to tell, and frankly, Killian didn't even want to delve into that notion, afraid that he would get his hopes up in vain. He was not oblivious of the fact that the lass had feelings for him; he just didn't know what kinds of feelings. The thought of his sentiments being one-sided was more painful that he cared to admit.

His epiphany was broken by a loud growl coming from ahead of them. The three halted immediately, lifting their weapons, ready for the strike. Suddenly, two gigantic boars, as big as adult wolves and with three-foot-long sharp tusks, charged to them from the depths of the jungle. Snow White quickly shot arrows at them but their fur was too thick for them to make real damage. Killian ducked and rolled out of one of the beasts' way, taking a dagger out of his boot and throwing it to the animal. It buried itself in the boar's side, making it produce an agonizing whine but failing to kill it. Regina threw balls of fire to them but they seemed to bounce on their backs. Just what they needed, magic-proof deadly boars.

Not missing a bit, Killian moved towards the stabbed boar, which was now having a hard time moving, and buried his sword on its other side, effectively killing him. He turned around and saw Snow run towards a big tree at tremendous speed, followed by the remaining boar. Just breaths away from colliding against it, she turned right and moved behind the tree. The animal's instincts weren't so sharp, and it impaled its tusks on the rough bark. Killian withdrew his sword from the boar's side and in one swift move decapitated the boar that was still frantically trying to rid itself from the trap.

"Everyone alright?" Snow asked after a bit, exhaling a relieved sigh at Killian and Regina's affirmative answers.

"Boars aren't natural from this part of the jungle," Killian commented while using a wide leaf nearby to clean the blades of his sword and dagger.

"Well, that just adds fuel to the theory that we are heading to a place where we are unwanted," Regina concluded, casting a disgusted look at the animals and signaling for them to keep moving.

Darkness was taking over the treacherous land as the Queen, the Princess and the Pirate advanced through the thick jungle. After the boar incident, their way had been surprisingly smooth, _suspiciously_ smooth. Not a Lost One, nor another animal, nor a deadly carnivorous plant or unusually large insect. Running into a wall of thick, thorny vines that blocked their path, Killian and Snow silently moved aside so that Regina could burn it down. When done, they found themselves stepping into a massive clearing surrounded by trees.

Killian was scanning their surroundings when he felt Snow clutch his hand with such a firm grip that he was sure she'd leave bruises. "Captain, look!" she managed to shout in a whisper, pointing at some point at the other side of the open ground.

He directed his eyes to the place, and an embarrassingly crackled laugh left his lips. About half a mile away, standing slightly in its lonesome at the edge of the clearing, was a tree.

_The_ tree.

They had made it.

Moving with even more precaution, they slowly advanced towards it, watchful of any unpleasant surprises that could come their way. They had closed about one third of the distance when rustling and footsteps could be heard to their right. Their fighting stances were promptly discarded when they heard "Snow!", screamed by Charming's unmistakable voice. Moments later, the owner of said voice appeared in the clearing mere feet away from them, followed by a limping Gold and a shuffling Tinkerbell.

Killian saw Snow scream in joy and run to her husband's arms, but his attention was on the remaining two members of the other search party.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a commanding voice.

"The pixie directed us here," Gold said simply, eyes narrowing and grip on his cane tightening.

"Is this where they had kept you, Tinkerbell?" Regina asked the pixie.

The aforementioned, who had been quiet and exhausted-looking since their appearance here, raised her head from the ground for the first time and smirked at the Queen.

A cold shiver ran down Killian's spine.

"Not exactly," she said, and the cruelty in her voice and her blazing eyes could outdo Rumplestiltskin himself. Well, almost. "I guided you all like cattle," she laughed, confirming Killian's worst fears.

"What do you mean?" he asked her, unable to control his shaky voice.

Tinkerbell turned her eyes at him and, for a moment, looked like the lovely and innocent pixie that he remembered and loved, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by this marble image of evil and craziness. "I'm sorry, Hook," she said, voice coated with a childish innocence that made Killian's stomach twist and clench. "But you were so close to finding everything out and ruining my plan...now you all have to die."

As if on cue, dozens and dozens of Lost Ones appeared out of thin air from the edges of the clearing, surrounding them and inching closer and closer. Killian didn't have time to fully process what Tinkerbell had meant by _her_ plan because suddenly she took off and sat gracefully on the top branch of the tree where Emma was probably locked in, watching down like one of the emperors of the books Killian had read centuries ago but suddenly recalled clearly and painfully, waiting expectantly for the lions to devour the slaves in the center of the amphitheater.

* * *

_**So...as one beloved 90s TV show used to say, "The truth is out there". Shit is about to go down big time :O As I said before, I don't foresee more than five or six more chapters, so we're beginning the journey to the end of the story (which makes me incredibly sad even though I still don't know how I'm going to end it). I probably won't be updating very often because September is a complicated month for me at University and I also started another AU fic; it's a three-shot, I posted the first chapter last Sunday and you should totally check it out ;) As always, thanks for your follows, favorites, reviews and questions. I never thought so many people would like my little ramblings. See you next time!**_


	15. Truth's out

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update! I'm too busy with school and with the other AU story I'm writing. Plus, my muse was being a little bitch again. Ugh. Hope you like this one, and, as usual, thanks for all your support! Also, I want to dedicate this chapter to _**DIANA **_because she's awesome and supportive and I love her.  
**Disclaimer**: Actually, no.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End-Blur~_

* * *

Living with Eric was pretty similar to living with Mary Margaret during those first days after she'd decided to stay permanently in the still cursed Storybrooke. By sharing the same roof and eating dinner together every day, they started gradually knowing each other and growing more comfortable in each other's presence. Although in this case, it was Eric who was starting to become more comfortable around her, not as nervous or shy or blushy as he'd been when she had first met him. Somehow, she'd never felt overly awkward with him around. She thought that it had to do with the fact that she strongly believed that Killian was there, somewhere, buried underneath the docile and gentle personality.

And oh, boy, how she missed the stupid pirate.

Eric's presence and unconditional support – even though the still didn't have a fucking clue as to what was _really _going on, which made Emma feel a bit guilty about still keeping that vital piece of information to herself – were very soothing and filled her with a sense of peaceful familiarity; but she sometimes found herself expecting a cheeky remark or innuendo that would never come.

Forced to stay in the apartment all day to avoid another meeting with the creepy sheriff or Neal and Regina's wrath, there was not a lot she could do, as Eric had strictly forbidden her to keep cleaning every inch of the place. She had read some of his books – not _Peter Pan_, for obvious reasons – but apart from that, there was not much she could keep herself entertained with so as to keep the remains of her sanity intact. She would engage in conversation with her host, but his repertoire of anecdotes was quite limited, being a cursed persona that should have belonged to a cursed town but now was being part of another curse that was going on inside her head.

Yeah.

It was not that she didn't enjoy Eric's company, but in those opportunities, she recalled with nostalgia the nights in which her pirate would try to keep her agonizing worries about Henry out of her mind by narrating in full detail many stories about a 400-year-old life worth of adventures.

(Emma didn't even want to acknowledge that she had somehow started considering Killian as "hers"; it was more than enough for now that she had admitted that she missed him and seeing him again was one of her motivations to break this stupid curse once and for all).

But the worst part of her current situation was that she hadn't heard anything from Henry in three days. She knew that they couldn't get him out of town and that they wouldn't be so heartless as to lock the kid in the nunnery or the hospital so Emma couldn't contact him, but she was sure that they must have found a way to punish him for seeing her regularly.

Eric had noticed that she sometimes blanked out, staring at the empty space thinking of her son and longing to speak with him again; and in those cases he just offered her a sympathetic smile and a reassuring caress. He had tried unsuccessfully to find out something about the boy's whereabouts as discreetly as possible so as not to attract the attention of the Cassidy couple, but they watched Henry like a hawk and didn't let him go alone anywhere; so reaching to talk to him was proving to be a nearly impossible feat.

That was one of the things Emma appreciated most of Eric: he didn't even try to offer her meaningless words of consolation. He silently stood by her and proved her that he was there, living up to his promise and helping in any way he could.

Much like Killian.

* * *

"Gotta tell you, love, spending the day in the shop is much more boring now that you can't join me," Eric commented with an overdramatic sigh as he finished his breakfast on the fourth morning of her stay there.

"You are one who is constantly saying that I have to stay hidden, so don't complain," she accused mockingly, pointing at him menacingly with her spoon.

What she hadn't realized is that said spoon still had droplets of the hot cocoa she'd been stirring, and thus she ended up staining Eric's shirt.

_Way to go, girl._

"Oh, damn! I'm sorry! I should have been more careful," she apologized instantly, mortified by her stupidity. Eric may not be her Killian per se but he still made her act stupidly when he was around.

He looked down at his shirt and laughed heartily. "No worries, lass, I'll change. And don't even think about washing this, I'll do it later when I come home," he said, standing up and smoothly lifting said shirt with a fluid movement of his hand. Good thing his eyes were momentarily covered by the fabric of the garment that he was trying to take off, so he couldn't see Emma's awestruck face and her mouth hanging open. Luckily for her, he started walking to his room just as he succeeded in removing the shirt, so he didn't catch sight of her nearly drooling over the breakfast table.

She suddenly wanted nothing more but to bury her cheek in the dark hair of his chest.

_Get a grip, Emma, for fuck's sakes._

She heard him coming back so she schooled her expression, taking a sip of her cocoa to hide her face behind the mug. He made it back to the kitchen wearing a black T-shirt and trying to hide the smirk that was constantly pulling the corner of his mouth upwards.

_The fucking bastard did that on purpose._

"Leroy asked me to help him repair the engine of his boat during lunchtime so I'll see you in the evening," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"See you," she said, just a little bit breathless, as she watched him leave the apartment.

* * *

Emma was lying on the couch, perfectly comfortably reading _A Captain at 15_ when there was a short knock on the door. Paralyzing terror raced up through her entire body, twisting her guts and constricting her heart. Eric wouldn't have knocked on his own door. Did that mean that they had done something to him and now they were coming from her? What could have they possibly done for him to admit that she was hiding in his house?

She stayed frozen for an undetermined amount of time. For a moment, she considered hiding in the concealed attic, but then she belatedly realized that whoever had been on the door was long gone now. They hadn't insisted on their knocking nor tried to break in.

_It was probably a costumer that couldn't find Eric in his shop and tried to see if he was here, _she thought, calming down. Slowly, she tiptoed to the main door and peeked through the hole. The hall and the stairs were completely empty. Throwing all precaution to the air, she opened the door with the spare key Eric had given her and looked outside.

There was a small box wrapped in Manila paper on the hall, next to the apartment. Emma bent down to read the note scribbled on it. _Open me._

She placed her ear on top of the box and heard nothing. _Well, at least it's not a bomb._

Intrigued, Emma grabbed the box and locked herself in the apartment again. She took it to the kitchen and unwrapped it carefully. The first thing she saw when she opened the box was a small white card that read _Use me._

Reaching in, she extracted a big, old walkie-talkie.

"Oh my God," she breathed, memories of Operation Cobra flooding her mind and bringing tears to her eyes.

"Hello?" she said through the walkie-talkie, closing her eyes and wishing for a miracle.

No answer.

Exhaling heavily and trying to keep her tears at bay, she left the device on the coffee table and went to have a long, scorching and well-needed shower.

Half an hour later, she was wiping the steam from the mirror in Eric's bathroom and was about to blow-dry her hair when she heard a static noise coming from the living area. She followed the sound and, with a laugh-sob, heard a small, childlike and excited voice coming from the walkie-talkie. "Hello? Hello? Anybody there?"

She instantly grabbed the device with trembling hands and answered "Hi! Henry?"

Silence for a heartbeat, two heartbeats. Then...

"Emma? Emma, is it you?!"

"Yeah, kid, it's me. How are you?"

"Fine, I guess. Did you leave this for me?"

"No," Emma worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "Actually, someone dropped this on my front door earlier today. How did you find yours?"

"It was in my backpack. I found it after I came home from school. Emma..."

"Yeah?"

"I miss you," he said in a whisper, but perfectly audible.

"I miss you too, kid," she said when she was able to speak again without breaking down. "Did your parents say anything about me?"

"Yeah, mom was not happy. She said you were a liar and you wanted to hurt me; and now she or dad take me and pick me up from everywhere so I don't run off and try to see you." The misery in his voice broke Emma's heart and gave her a fresh wave of anger towards Regina.

"Henry, I would _never_ try to hurt you. Believe me."

"I know. I know, Emma. I want to see you again. I miss your stories." It sounded as if her little boy was about to cry.

_That's it. Time for drastic measures._

"Henry, can you parents hear you now?" she asked. She had to be sure.

"No, mom is at the Town Hall and dad is taking a nap."

"Alright. Do you know the nautical shop by the harbor?"

"Mr. Davidson's shop? Yeah!" he answered excitedly.

"Well, I'm staying with him at the moment, hiding from your mom and dad. So if you want..."

"I'll be there in a second!" he nearly screamed, making Emma laugh.

"Be careful!" she warned, but the line on the other side was already dead.

Only fifteen minutes later, the sound of the door unlocking interrupted Emma's frantic pacing. She hadn't even fully turned around to face it when she felt a small body collapsing with hers and short but strong arms wrapping around her waist so tightly that it knocked out the air from her lungs.

"Hey, kid," she greeted, hugging Henry back and lightly caressing his soft brown hair.

Apparently realizing that he had reacted a little bit too much, he quickly disentangled from her, cheeks tinted red. "Hey, Emma."

"How did you get in here?"

"The lad stormed in my shop and demanded to see you. He can be very persuasive," Eric said from his place against the front door, looking at the pair and smiling widely. He signaled at the walkie-talkie on the table with his head. "Glad to see my gift worked."

"Those are yours?!" Emma asked, dumbfounded.

Eric scratched the back of his neck, suddenly a little insecure. "Yeah, I found them while cleaning the attic the other day and I thought you guys could use it."

"How did you put one in my school bag?" Henry asked, eyebrows scrunched.

Eric smirked. "I happened to be around the school today and well...what can I say, I have skillful fingers," he laughed, shrugging casually as if it wasn't a big deal, but his movements stopped suddenly when Emma wrapped her arms around his shoulders and have him a tight, grateful hug.

"Thank you," she said against his neck, sighing with content when she felt his right arm wrap around her hip.

"Anything for you, Emma," he replied just as quietly.

They stayed like that for a few seconds until Eric abruptly pulled away, looking embarrassed but grinning. "I'll leave you guys alone," he said, before disappearing inside his bedroom.

Emma took a seat on the couch next to Henry, who was watching at her curiously. "Are you guys together?"

"Uhm...no, kid. He's just a friend."

He looked at her with a 'yeah, right' expression, but made no further comment. "What did my mom and dad do to you?" he asked, instead.

"They got me arrested, but I escaped. That's why I'm hiding here."

"Why would they do something like that?" he asked.

_This is it._

"Because there's something I have to do that they don't want me to. Henry, do you remember all the stories I've told you?"

"Yeah."

"Remember what I told you about them?"

He thought about it for a few moments before answering. "That they really happened. That they are about people in town."

"And do you believe that?" Emma asked, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest.

"I believe in you," Henry said, locking his beautiful eyes with hers and making her own eyes teary.

"Then you have to believe it. It's true. Everything I told you it's true."

"You mean...that Ruby is really Red Riding Hood, and Nicholas and Ava are really Hansel and Gretel?" he asked, half incredulous and half amazed.

"Yes. Henry...the truth is that this place is not real. You and I, we are from another world, a world in which we are together, but we were cursed to be here."

"Really?!" he asked, eyes wide and completely immersed in her words.

"Yes. It's a very long story. But the point is that you were put under a curse and you ended up here, where you don't remember that I'm your mom," her voice broke in the last sentence and she had to take a deep breath before going on. "Shortly after, I was put under the same curse, and my mission is to save you, to make you remember me so the curse can be broken and we'll be safe again."

"And what happens if you don't break the curse on time?" he asked an eternity later.

Emma grabbed his little hand in hers and squeezed it lovingly, hating herself for what she was about to do, but it was necessary. "We both die."

Henry opened his mouth to reply but was cut short by another alarmed male voice behind her_. "__What?!_"


	16. This is war

**A/N:** Thank you for being so awesome, I love you all from the bottom of my oversized aortic pump (I make a lot of Friends references, JSYK). Sorry for the delay, I have shitloads of stuff to do for College. Anyways, here's another one. We're approaching the end, dearies! I hope you like this one. And please, review!  
**Disclaimer:** Alas, nope.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End-Blur~_

* * *

It was a truth universally known that Neverland liked to play mind tricks to the poor souls that wound up there. And the way to do so was by manipulating time: stretching it out, making it go fast forward, freezing it momentarily; so that an hour in all the other realms could be either mere minutes or even extenuatingly long decades in Neverland. In all the time he had spent in that paradisiac prison, however, Killian Jones hadn't fallen prey to the madness that such phenomenon ensured in most men and women. His mind had been too focused on his revenge and hatred, his heart too empty of happiness. Neverland's maddening allures had had no effect on him because he had nothing to lose.

Thus the irony of the situation in which he was immersed now; for Killian Jones, for the first time, could _feel_ time stopping, prolonging his confusion and agonizing dread and fear. Still stunned by the sudden turn of events, he registered what was going on in his surroundings as if it was all happening in slow motion. Tinkerbell flying to the top branch of the tree and looking down with eyes maliciously narrowed and dark sparks lighting her small body, the sound of swords unsheathing, an arrow being tensed against a bow, small balls of fire floating above the hands of two people. The many Lost Ones that glared at them with killing rage from the edges of the clearing, weapons in hand and ready to attack. It was more than obvious that they outnumbered the group in the middle, probably by tenfold.

Time stood still while he processed all this in his head, coming up with just one soul-sinking conclusion. There was no way out.

They were going to die.

The Captain had had his share of tough battles and he had managed to succeed in getting away –mostly – unharmed from all of them. After all, surviving was what he excelled at. But never had he found himself in such unfavorable situation. Judging by their number, probably all the Lost Ones were there; and he knew the viciousness those beasts were capable of. Moreover, the sparks from Tinkerbell indicated that she had acquired some kind of magic that was alien to her natural abilities and wouldn't hesitate to use it. The sky was almost pitch black, so the Shadow could grace them with its presence at any moment.

The odds were _definitely _not in their favor.

Then Emma's face flooded his mind. Emma, the infuriatingly stubborn and beautiful woman who had bested him many a time and made him both annoyed and impressed. Emma, whose son was taken from her, and he hadn't hesitated for a second before offering his services to help reunite them despite it meant going back to his personal hell. Emma, who was probably just a few feet away from him now.

_A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets._

And he wanted to fight for her. He wanted to save her. He wanted her.

Tightening his grip on his sword, his body naturally adopted a defensive stance. And just like that, Neverland's spell on time broke and, with a war cry that could turn a man's blood into pure ice, the Lost Ones charged.

Killian moved so that he could stand back to back with David, sword and hook raised, waiting for one of the sodding bastards to come at him. Around him, arrows and fireballs flew from different directions, hitting a couple of the invaders. While trying to stick his hook into a muscular Lost One, Killian saw from the corner of his eye that a current of purple smoke Gold had thrown was deflected by the blade of one of the imps, the magic bouncing against it and going straight to its conjurer.

"Crocodile!" He didn't know what possessed him to do it. Maybe the adrenaline of the battle, the blur that occupied his mind, making him unable to think clearly, just react. But the truth is that Gold heard his warning and ducked just on time, the purple magic rushing past him and hitting another Lost One right in the middle of his back.

The look on his face was priceless, and the Captain acknowledged that his own face must have had quite a similar expression itself. After all, he had just saved his mortal enemy. Granted, the Dark One probably couldn't be killed even with his own magic, but such magic probably would have had unfortunate effects if it had succeeded in knocking him. They shared a curt nod at the same time before Killian turned his full concentration back to the menace in front of him, and after a rather painful twist of his arm, he managed to bury his sword into the Lost One's stomach. No sooner had the dead body hit the ground that two other ones, twins and too well-built for their seemingly young age, came charging at him blandishing their swords.

The pirate glanced back at the prince, who had just finished off with another of the boys and had his own army of savages against him. Their eyes locked and they silently concocted a plan. He turned to look at the twins rapidly approaching him and, when they were close enough, he ducked and rolled on the floor to the side; Charming doing the same to the other side. Unable to stop themselves on time, the Lost Ones charging towards the prince clashed with the twins. It wasn't until too late that either of them realized that they were tearing off their own people.

The prince promptly ran off to attack a hooded figure looming behind Snow White, who was ceaselessly shooting arrows at the dark boys. Killian saw that four tall silhouettes were slowly circling Regina, trapping her in the middle; her magical attacks failing to do much assistance with their strange magic-proof state. He ran towards the group and, with an involuntary growl from his chest, he beheaded two with a swift move of his sword. Regina threw fireballs at the other two, effectively setting them afire, and conjured a long and sharp cutlass for herself before running to the opposite side of the clearing, throwing more fireballs and stabbing some of their attackers with her newest weapon. Turning back to the battlefield, he noticed that almost half of the Lost Ones were lying on the ground, dead or unconscious, but the ones remaining were fighting even more ferociously.

"Long time no see, Captain," a smooth, cruel voice called at his right, and Killian turned to see the gawky blonde boy with sharp features and dark, glinting eyes.

"Felix. Forgive me if I say that it's not exactly a pleasure to see you again," he countered gruffly, lifting his sword once again. He had a special dislike for the leader of the evil gang of teenagers.

The other man laughed, sending chills down Killian's spine. "You had it coming, Hook. You shouldn't have come back."

"Are you going to stand there and talk all night?" the Captain yelled, tired of the trash talk. He had always been a straight-to-the-point guy.

Felix smirked before thrusting his blade forward, aiming for Killian's abdomen. The latter easily deflected it and soon both of them were engaged in an almost brutal sparring, the clashing of their swords resonating deafeningly among the cries and yells and grunts and thuds of the battle. Killian fought with all his might, but Felix seemed to have little trouble in avoiding his blows, and gave as good as he got. The Captain was starting to get frustrated at his inability of breaking Felix, which the other one took to his advantage.

"Getting tired so soon, Hook? You've grown soft. I wonder if that pretty blonde woman has something to do with it." For the first time in his unnaturally long life, Killian truly understood the meaning behind the phrase 'to see red'. Hatred and fury pumping through his whole being, he let out a feral growl, wanting nothing more but to cut off the fucking bastard's tongue. The strength of Killian's blows intensified, and he managed to knock off the weapon from Felix's hand by slicing his wrist, almost chopping off the limb.

_That would have been quite comical._

"Seems that I've struck a nerve right there," the boy said, letting out a carefree chuckle and apparently unfazed by the fact that now he was powerless against the pirate captain. Killian approached him, sword raised above his head, more than ready to kill the sodding kid, and he was quite surprised to see in Felix's eyes that he seemed to have accepted his fate. His end. He fell on his knees, voluntarily getting ready for his own execution, and the pirate threw his arm back, prepared to strike the fatal blow. He stopped short, however, when Felix suddenly drew his forefingers to his mouth, letting out a shrilling whistle.

Roars and grumbles resonated from the depths of the jungle and half a dozen massive boars appeared out of thin air, much like what had happened earlier when he was with Snow White and the Queen. Turning his attention back to the kneeling man in front of him, Killian could see that he was smirking, clearly satisfied with his last move to keep the battle in his favor. With a sudden rush of pure rage taking over his senses, he lowered his sword and hit Felix on the head with the hilt. He heard the distinct sound of bone breaking and the blonde man fell on the ground, lifeless.

Glancing around, he saw the Crocodile, Regina and Snow White currently trying to make short work of the newest threat, while Charming managed to stab a Lost One in the heart and steal his dagger. Looking up to where their audience had been seated, he noticed that Tinkerbell was nowhere in sight now, which should have been relieving but it actually had quite the complete opposite.

Where had the pixie gone? To fetch some more mortal creatures to fight them? To take refuge somewhere and prepare for the next blow, if there was going to be any? To hurt Emma?

He was abruptly shaken out of his mental rambling by a sharp pain on his not-fully-healed ribs that knocked him to the ground. An angry grunt came from behind him.

Bloody fucking boar!

He lifted his head to see the devil animal hurrying towards him again, blood dripping from his horns. He gingerly touched his side and saw blood on his fingers. How sodding marvelous. He raised his sword to impale the enraged animal, but he never got the chance as it halted suddenly, letting out a pained cry and falling dead mere inches away from him, a sword peeking up from its rear. Charming approached him, withdrew his sword from the boar's flesh and extended a hand to help Killian up.

"You alright, mate?" he asked the pirate.

"Yeah, thank you," the other answered through gritted teeth. _Never fucking better, mate. What did you think? This is like a bloody leisure day at the beach!_

The Crocodile had produced a long, thick, magical rope and was throwing it to the boars, effectively tying their legs together and immobilizing them. In a few minutes, Killian, Regina and Charming had killed all the animals, leaving several Lost Ones as the only menace left – for now. He felt something grab his right arm and turned around brusquely, ready to strike, when he saw it was Snow White, looking frantically at him.

"Go, Killian!" she urged. He noticed that her lip was cut and swollen and there was a long gash on her pale arm.

"Where?" he asked, unable to follow the petite warrior's train of thoughts.

"Emma!" she answered, a whispered scream.

"I will not leave battle," he answered, adamantly. There were still enemies fighting them and he was no coward.

"Killian, please!" Snow White pleaded, tears glistening in her eyes even in the darkness that surrounded them. "The four of us can handle the remaining Lost Ones, and the path is clear for now. Go. Find. Emma."

He remained rooted on his spot, limbs not obeying, brain not processing what she was trying to tell him.

"What...?"

Judging from her menacing expression, she was seconds away from hitting him. "Focus, Killian. Is she in there?" she asked, motioning towards the tree.

For a second, Killian ignored the sound of metal clashing against metal or piercing skin and the accompanying cries of pain, he ignored the danger that still loomed over their heads like the sword of Damocles; he just closed his eyes and breathed in slowly. Despite the thrill and anxiousness of the battle, the heaviness of his chest had dissipated remarkably. His legs, previously numb and lead-like, now were tingling, itching to move. But not just anywhere. Deep down, he wanted, _needed_ to get into that sodding tree.

"Yes," he breathed, opening his eyes and focusing on Snow White's green ones, so similar to Emma's. "She's in there."

She let out a strangled laugh and nodded. "Then you have to go for her. She's cursed, you're the only one who can bring her back."

It was not the first time that she had hinted at the possible source of his connection with the Swan girl, but it was in fact the first time in which Killian didn't feel the urge to dismiss that possibility as a mere delusion. He just nodded slowly and, with a final look at the battle where at least twenty Lost Ones stood still, fighting with tooth and nails, he sprinted towards the huge tree. Circling its trunk, he noticed that a side of its base was covered in moss and wild vegetation. Not wasting a second, he used his hook to clear it, and his heart skipped a beat when he revealed a hole wide enough for him to fit in. He made sure no intruders would ambush him before jumping in.

He landed dexterously on his feet; the fall wasn't too high. He inspected the empty corridors of the underground tunnels, walking slowly and expecting an obstacle at every turn. It was both calming and unsettling that he found none.

Finally, he stumbled inside a small, candlelit room. There was nothing there except two lumps in the floor, a big one and a smaller one. Two human-shaped lumps, and the bigger one had silver blonde hair...

His knees weakened and he almost fell to the floor when he recognized the form in front of him as Emma. She was there, propped against the wall, head hanging in front of her. For a heartbreaking moment, he thought she might be dead, but after staring intently he saw the slow but steady rise and fall of her chest and he sighed in relief. A few inches away, a little boy he recognized as Henry was mimicking his mother's stance.

"Lass?" he rasped, throat dry, heart hammering against his damaged ribcage. He approached them and crouched to be at eye level with her. "Emma?"

He carefully lifted her chin with his fingers to have a closer look at her face. It had only been a few days but he had almost forgotten how beautiful she truly was...

He slapped her cheek gently a few times, but she made no move whatsoever. _It must be some kind of sleeping curse_, he thought.

His thumb brushed across her lips, leaving a tingling and burning sensation in its wake. He was not ready to do it, not ready to face the implications – whether he succeeded or failed – of what he was about to do. But he had to. It could mean a way to set Emma free.

_It could also break your heart in a million pieces._

Ignoring the gnawing voice in his head, he leaned forward until his lips pressed against Emma's. He counted until five before pulling away to inspect her face.

He scrutinized her for a second, two, three...

Nothing happened.

* * *

_**in case you hadn't noticed yet, i love me some painful cliffhanger (:**_


	17. Dawning

**A/N: **Ugh, this site was being a little shit today :( anyways, I loved reading your distressed reviews about last chapter :D and I think this one will make up for that ;) as always, thank you so much for everything!  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End-Blur~_

* * *

She was fucked. So utterly, irremediably fucked.

She felt her entire being freeze at his alarmed question. Which was still ringing in her mind on repeat like the worst hit song of the summer on the radio.

She dreaded turning around, she didn't want to face him. But she couldn't pretend to be a living statue forever, either. There was just no way out.

Despite all the years she had had of practice, she knew she was just not prepared for him leaving her. Because that was what he was certainly going to do. He'd think she was insane, he'd look at her with disappointment and rejection and prejudice in his gorgeous eyes and tell her to leave him alone and never see him again. And she wouldn't be able to stand such a thing.

Her heart wouldn't be able to stand such a thing.

She took a deep breath and gently released her son's hand that she was still holding, noticing that his expression had saddened considerably.

_Well, you have just told him there's a high chance he'll die._

She sent him a small, brave smile, trying to tell him that everything would be all right and slowly turned around to face Eric. Her eyes zeroed in his, and she saw the shock glued in them. His eyebrows were raised almost to his hairline and his jaw hanging loose, occasionally opening and closing but failing to emit a sound.

This was not good. Not good at all.

"Kid? You think you can leave us alone for today? We'll talk later by the walkies," she said, not taking her eyes off Eric for a second.

"Okay," his choked voice said behind her, as if he was holding back tears.

Emma turned back to him and gingerly caressed his cheek with a hand and his hair with the other. "Hey. Don't be upset. I'm sorry I blurted it to you like that, but you don't have to worry. I promise we're going to be fine. We will," she said to him with more conviction than she felt.

"I'm just sad I can't remember you," he said, a tear running down his face and shattering Emma's heart.

She scooted closer to him and opened her arms a little, silently offering a hug, which he took, tightening his arms around her waist with surprising strength. "Shh, kid, I know. You will, I know you will. I have faith in you." She pulled him away from her carefully. "Now go home before your mom forms a search party to look for you, okay? I'll talk to you by the walkie around nine, so be alert."

Henry nodded and got up, looking expectantly at Eric. The latter seemed to be shaken out of his trance and approached the door to let the kid out of the apartment. With a last look at her and a small smile, Henry walked through the door. She could hear the sound of his footsteps down the stairs. Eric slowly, meticulously closed the door, taking all the time in the world, and leaned against it, his back facing Emma.

She stared at him, at his rigid body, his torso rising and falling with shallow breaths, his only hand curled into a fist. Her heart was beating wildly, and she was trying to mentally brace herself for the oncoming storm that would fall on them at any second.

When around five minutes had passed and he still hadn't moved a muscle, Emma got up from the couch and slowly approached him. As much as she was dreading it, she knew she had to deal with the situation because if it dragged out it would be only for the worse. She stopped a few inches away from him, and reached out her hand, wanting to caress his shoulder comfortingly, but she let her arm fall limp at her side because she was not sure if he would welcome any kind of touch. Probably not.

_Definitely not._

"Eric..." she began, voice low and unsure. She stopped short when she realized she really didn't know what to say.

He took a deep breath. "I guess now I understand why you were always saying that I wouldn't believe you if you'd told me about the whole thing." The hint of betrayal and hurt in his voice didn't go unnoticed by Emma, and it crushed her heart even more.

"Was I right?" she asked, biting her lip and closing her eyes, waiting for the final blow.

He didn't answer immediately, and the silence was become more and more deafening by the second.

"I don't know," he said finally.

"Eric, listen. I hate myself for keeping that from you. I really do. Ever since we've first met you've been nothing but kind and helpful to me, you've done more for me than anyone else in my life. And it is not fair that I didn't tell you the truth when you asked me all those times, but I was too afraid... I was afraid of this. Afraid that you'd leave me." Her voice broke and she barely registered a lonesome tear running down her face.

He didn't turn around, though his shoulders relaxed a little. "I'm going for a walk," he announced with a carefully neutral voice, pulling away from the door just enough to unlock it and open it. "Don't leave the apartment, I may still be dangerous."

Without even sparing a look at her, he shut the door behind him, leaving a brokenhearted Emma behind, grabbing at the closest thing for support as ruthless sobs shook her whole body at her worst fear being materialized.

* * *

"Lion Cub to Duckling. Lion Cub to Duckling. Are you there? Over."

"I'm Duckling now?" Emma asked, slightly amused, sitting against the wall in the tiny attic, holding the walkie-talkie close to her mouth.

"Well, yeah," Henry's voice came from the device, "I can't use your real name because it would ruin the secret. Duh."

"And why are you a lion cub?"

"Because I like lions," he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She had to laugh at her son's adorable antics.

"Did you get home all right?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. Mom hadn't arrived yet and Dad didn't even notice I had left. So it was all cool."

"Good," she breathed, relieved. She had dismissed him so suddenly that she was afraid he was going to get caught on his way back to his house. "How're you doing? With, you know..." she didn't have to finish the sentence for Henry to catch up on what she meant.

"It's...weird," Henry replied. "It's like, on one hand, it's cool that we come from another place, and that everyone here is some fairytale character. Like, I went to have dinner at Granny's with Mom and Dad today and I was watching at Granny polishing a crossbow and Ruby sniffing around and I totally understood what you told me earlier, and I knew it was true, I could feel it!" His growing excitement made Emma smile for the first time in hours, and also gave her the tiniest ray of hope that they would get out of this.

"That's great, kid. I'm glad you do."

"Yeah, but, there's also the thing..."

"I'm sorry, Henry," she interrupted before he could say it. "I'm really, really sorry to have freaked you out with that. I don't want you to feel bad about yourself or guilty or scared."

"It's just that I do _feel _like there's something there, but it's like a dream I don't remember very well," she could hear the misery in his voice and longed to hug him and soothe his fears.

"You'll remember kid, don't worry."

"I hope so," he said. "Did you talk to Mr. Davidson?"

Emma closed her eyes and let her head fall against the wall, a new rush of uncertainty and sadness taking over her. "No, I tried but he said he needed to get out and he hasn't come back yet."

When Neal had left her and a police officer had come for her instead of him all those years ago, she had felt numb. The pain was there, but she hadn't been able to feel it in full force until much later. Until she was wearing an orange jumpsuit and sitting in her hard cot behind bars. Yet, even then, she did not cry. The only tears she had shed were when her newborn son was being taken away from her, his cries and screams dying down as they took him down the corridor and away from her life for ten years. Her crying didn't last long, though. As she'd done after Neal's betrayal, she'd closed off, kept the pain to herself and used it to create a cocoon around her heart.

That's why she hadn't expected Eric's abandonment to shock her so badly. The loud bang of the door shutting behind him felt like a stab to her guts. Her ears had started to buzz and she curved into a ball on the floor. She didn't know how long she stayed there, crying like she hadn't cried in years, calling for both Eric and Killian in between hiccupped sobs. Memories of Killian walking away from her with a dried bean in his hand, leaving her feeling unexpectedly guilty and hurt, flooded her mind, making her cry even harder. When she'd calmed down, she'd decided to seek refuge in the hidden attic and wait for her son to talk to her and for Eric to come back. The latter had not happened.

"He'll be back soon, don't worry." Great, now she was being so weak about this than even his ten-year-old son felt the need to try to comfort her.

"I wouldn't be so sure," she said miserably. "You know, back in our world, you were the first one to figure out that everyone in Storybrooke was a cursed fairytale character. And you tried really hard to convince me, you did literally everything you could to convince me to believe." She shuddered at the memory of her son lying unconscious on the ground after eating Regina's apple turnover. "But it was so surreal, I didn't believe until it was almost too late because it sounded impossible. Eric surely feels now the same way I did back then. I don't think he'll come back. If he does, it will be to tell me to get the hell out."

"Emma, please," Henry said. "I saw the way he always looks at you. He gave us these walkies so we can do this, keep in touch, and he doesn't even know me. Today when I went to his shop and mentioned you, his face kind of lit up. I think he's in love with you. It may be difficult at first but he'll come back for you because he cares. Have hope."

"You're too young to give so good advice," she joked after she managed to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

"I can't help being so smart." They laughed together, and it turned into a yawn on Henry's side of the line.

"Go to sleep, kid. You must be exhausted."

"Yeah, I think I'll go to bed now," he said. "Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Of course," Emma said. "Good night, Henry."

"Good night. Over and out." he answered, and the transmission died.

Henry had been right about so many things before, about everything. Emma really hoped he was right about this too. With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and let exhaustion take over, sleep claiming her.

She woke up to the oddest feeling. It was like a warm breeze caressing her heart, and a tingling sensation on her lips. Totally confused, she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate in her dream. It was all dark, blurry, the only sensations she'd felt were soft touches on her skin and warmth on her lips. Then a strange pull, tugging her body, calling for her, but not strong enough for her to make out what it was about. It lasted for a few seconds before going away as suddenly as it had appeared, and Emma found that she missed it. It had been a pleasant feeling, but she couldn't exactly pinpoint _which_ kind of feeling...

Lips. Lips on hers. That was the source of the tingling still lingering there. She looked around; she was alone in the dark attic. Quietly going down the ladder, she found Eric nowhere in sight, neither in the bedroom nor in the rest of the apartment. Disappointment sank on her at realizing that he hadn't been back yet despite it being past midnight, but it also gave rise to unsettling questions. If she was all alone, who had kissed her?

_"Lass? Emma?"_

She gasped and brought a hand to her heart, clutching the skin there so forcefully that she'd probably mark herself, as the voice resonated clear in her mind.

_Killian._

Not Eric, Killian. The real him. Her stupid pirate. He must have found her in the tree in Neverland. And he had kissed her. Why would he...?

"Oh my God." Realization sank in and left her rooted to the spot, barely able to breathe properly. Killian had found her and tried to wake her by kissing her.

He had tried True Love's Kiss.

And that could mean one thing and one thing only: he loved her.

Happiness and uncertainty bombarded her in equal measures. It was exhilarating to realize that Killian Jones loved her enough to believe that his kiss would break the curse. It was heartbreaking to realize that it didn't.

Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought that her not waking up must have caused a great deal of pain in her pirate.

That again. She always thought of him as hers, even though she knew he wasn't. And it suddenly dawned on her that it was something else. He was _her._ The easiness with which he could read her, how he always knew what he needed despite her not telling him and always managed to make her feel better. The brokenness behind his eyes that was starting to heal with her presence, just like hers was starting to heal thanks to him. The way they fought together, complementing each other perfectly.

They were the same. They were the perfect match for the other.

The same heart beating in two bodies. Soulmates.

And she loved him.

She cursed herself for not realizing it sooner, and wished with all her might that Killian tried to kiss her again, sure that it would work this time. But he probably wouldn't do it.

Just then, the jingle of keys took her out of her reverie and her head shot up to the door just as Eric was entering the apartment. He left the keys on the small table at the side and his eyes locked with hers. Emma saw a myriad of emotions there. Embarrassment, sadness, compassion, hurt.

"Thought you might be asleep by now," he said sheepishly. When she didn't answer, he sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's just that...of all the things you could have said, I was definitely not expecting that." He laughed mirthlessly. "It's just so hard to believe, it sounds so crazy, and I felt like you were playing with me, using me to give you a roof and food when things got rough for you."

"Eric, that's not what-"

"Please let me finish," he interrupted, opening his beautiful eyes and looking at her pleadingly. "I was angry, I felt like a fool. I had a couple of drinks, trying to calm myself down and find some sense into it. Because nothing made sense. Hell, it didn't make sense that a bloody brilliant and gorgeous lass like yourself would look twice at a git like me to begin with!" Emma's heart broke for him and his self-deprecation. She wanted to placate him, but didn't have the chance as he continued talking. "I know you are not lying about the...curse thing. I can read you like an open book, you know, and I know you were telling me what you consider is the truth, and that you really felt bad about not telling me. I don't know if I believe in any of that, but I believe in you, Emma." His eyes had turned incredibly soft, and she wanted to run to him and let him hold her, but she was still unable to move, to react. "I've always felt this connection with you, ever since I bumped into you all those weeks ago. And you said that you and Henry could die," he closed his eyes as if it was paining him to even say it. "I won't let that happen. I'll do everything in my power to prevent that."

She was openly crying now, heart full of the love she felt for this man. Because despite his shaved face and docile personality, he was still Killian. He was not her pirate but he was her love.

"I'm so sorry," she said. It was all she could say. "I'm so sorry to have hurt you. To have lied to you. To have dragged you with me and putting you at risk. It was so selfish, but I did it because I needed you. I need you."

At that, he finally moved forward to her and crushed her against his chest, holding on to her for dear life. She returned it, crying on his shoulder and fisting his jacket. "Shh, lass, don't cry. I'm sorry I left like that. If it helps, I was always planning to come back. I just needed some time and space to clear my head. I won't do it again, I promise. We'll deal with this together. We'll find a way to make Henry remember you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He kept whispering apologies, running his hand down the length of her hair, and Emma pulled apart just a few inches to place her fingers on his mouth to make him stop torturing himself. She offered him a small, tentative smile that grew wider and wider against her will. His eyes were so full of care, so loving.

She gently withdrew her hand and inched closer. Guessing her intentions, he met her halfway and their lips met shyly at first, then moved with increasing pressure. A rush of warmth, peace, love, shot right through her whole being and outwards, surrounding them both as a light, purifying breeze blew their hair. Suddenly, he pulled apart just enough to speak against her lips.

"It's about bloody time."


	18. Leave my body

**A/N: **Almost 200 followers, whoop whoop! I can't believe it. Also, two or three more chapters and c'est fini. I can't believe that either. I think you are going to both love me and hate me with this chapter. Oopsie ;) As usual, thanks SO MUCH for sticking with me.  
**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing, man.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End-Blur~_

* * *

Emma's eyes snapped open in shock. She stared at his face, his _perfect _face, until he too opened his eyes. He finally did, his eyelids lazily lifting, letting the vibrant blue irises peek out so that she could read them like the most wonderful piece of literary work in existence.

Green eyes locked with blue ones, and she saw.

She saw relief, awe, happiness, mischief, love. She saw Killian.

She got even further confirmation with the playful smirk he was directing at her.

"You...?" she couldn't even speak, her voice was crackled with emotion.

"Aye, love," he grinned, bringing his hand up to caress her cheek lovingly. "You brought me back. I must say, though, that I am mortified that you had to treat such a graceless buffoon as my cursed self."

"Eric was great." He really had been. It was strange talking about Eric in past tense as if he had died or something, especially seeing that she had been kissing him just seconds before.

"So you prefer him to me?" Killian raised an eyebrow, but she could see the hint of insecurity concealed in his nonchalant question.

For a few seconds Emma pretended to be pondering it deeply just to unsettle him, until she just smirked at him and locked her hands behind his neck. "To be honest, I was missing the innuendoes."

"I knew it," he said triumphantly, diving in to kiss her once more.

Their lips moved effortlessly, and Emma marveled at the feel of his soft lips on hers, wet and so addictive. For a blissful moment she allowed herself to get lost in the sensations, the taste of him, the love humming through her veins. Until a bubble of uncertainty popped in her head and she pulled away, staring at him with her eyebrows scrunched together, her brain working overtime.

There were still many questions unanswered.

Killian pouted adorably, silently complaining about the abrupt end of the kiss, and she smiled softly, reassuringly.

"There are many things I don't understand," Emma started. "Are you...the real Killian?"

She almost felt stupid for asking such a thing. He, however, did not laugh at her or look at her as if she were insane, but slowly shook his head from one side to the other. "You're asking if I got somehow transported to this realm as well from Neverland, right?" Emma nodded. "The answer is no, my dear. I'm a mere product of the curse you've been put under, and I, as this whole oneiric realm, will disappear once you wake up again."

"That's the other thing. Why didn't I wake up? I thought that...you know..._it_ can break any curse. Yet the real you tried and failed, and now you came back to your usual obnoxious personality-"

"Oi!"

"- and I'm still here," she finished, ignoring his offended gasp.

He disentangled from her and grabbed her hand, guiding her to the couch and sitting side by side, while his hand massaged the back of hers.

"I can't rightly say, my dearest, but I know one thing. This curse was created by a pixie, and pixie magic is the most powerful one in existence. It is said that it even overpowers the Dark One's magic. Therefore, the way it functions does not exactly coincide with the regular standards when it comes to supernatural powers."

"It means that I still don't have a way to get back to my family?" she asked, feeling as if Cora was squeezing her heart again.

"True Love's Kiss can break any curse, Emma, but perhaps in certain cases it does not have an immediate effect," Killian said softly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and bringing her closer to him. "I think our kiss did not break the curse because you still have unfinished business," he said after a long period of melancholic silence.

"Henry," she breathed, finally understanding what he was trying to say. God, she wanted to smack herself in the head repeatedly.

"We'll figure how to deal with him in the morning, aye?" Killian said softly. "You gotta sleep now, love."

She nodded reluctantly, getting up and grabbing her pajamas from the side of the couch. She was going to the bathroom to change when the deafening bang of multiple knocks on the door made them both freeze. Emma and Killian exchanged panicked looks; however their visitor was, he surely was not making a casual visit at one in the morning.

"Hide in the attic," Killian whispered to Emma while going to the kitchen and grabbing a long carving knife.

Emma didn't need to be told twice, running to the huge wardrobe while her mind went from one unwanted scenario to the other. Had this world's Regina sensed the magic, connected the dots and come here in retaliation? Had the sheriff finally found her?

"Mom? Mom! Open up!"

Relief flooded her and left her weak in the knees. She turned around and saw Killian putting the knife back in place with a small smile before going to open the door.

Henry had come to her. And he had called her 'Mom'. That could only mean one thing:

He had found her. Again.

As soon as Killian opened the door, her son charged in and went straight to her, enveloping her in a bone-crushing hug and repeating a phrase over and over again like a mantra.

"I remember. I remember. I remember."

She emitted a noise that was half a laugh and half a sob while she ran her fingers through Henry's hair and rocked them back and forth gently.

"I'm so glad, kid," she said once she was able to speak again.

"Tinkerbell did this," Henry said, his face still buried against Emma's stomach. "Greg and Tamara took me to her and she blew sparks on me and sent me here."

"I know, kid. She did the same to me too."

"You found me," Henry said looking up at Emma, face and voice full of admiration that she felt she didn't deserve but which made her heart swell with pride and love.

"That's the family thing, right?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "Wait, we still need to wake up!"

To be honest, Emma had been hoping that they'd automatically get back to the real world (the term 'real' used loosely) once Henry remembered her. "Damn that pixie bitch!"

Henry gasped and Killian snickered softly behind them.

"Don't tell your grandparents I said that in front of you," Emma pleaded with her son.

"Don't worry; I've heard worse on TV," he assured her.

Emma heard someone clearing their throat and looked up at Killian, who was looking at her intently, as if propping her to remember something.

"What?" she asked, completely lost.

"Lass, I thought I would never find a flaw in you but as it turns out now, you, as inconceivable as it sounds, do have one, and it's your poor short-term memory."

She stared at him for a long minute, confusion rivaling with anger inside her.

_What the fuck is he talking about?_

She tried to remember their conversation prior to Henry's arrival, looking for the answer. They too had been discussing why she hadn't gone back even though...

Oh.

_Oh._

Her face involuntarily broke into a wide smile and she grabbed Henry's shoulders and bent down to be at eye level with him. "Kid, remember all the stories I told you? Remember how Snow White was in the Netherworld while under the Sleeping Curse? How Prince Charming made her come back, and then she did the same for him?"

His eyebrows scrunched together in an expression of deep concentration until his face lit up. "True Love's Kiss!"

She grinned and pinched his cheek lovingly. "And guess who my True Love is?"

This would work. She was sure of it, as sure of it as she was of her own name. She felt it in her guts and in her heart.

"Just...give me a minute before we get out of here, will you, Henry?" Emma asked softly, looking at Killian over her son's shoulder. The kid nodded and pulled apart, and she approached the man standing in a corner, looking at her with equal amounts of pride and longing.

"If there is one thing I learned from this, is that a person can have more than one True Love, and I'm lucky enough to be part of that case," she whispered to him, cupping his face with her hands. "Thank you for everything you did for me. As Eric and as Killian. I really have no words to express how grateful I am and how sorry I am that you'll be gone after I wake up."

"Worry not about me, love. You deserve much more than what an almost fictional version of a person can give you, though I'm glad I did my absolute best to make you feel like a worshiped creature, just as you should be. Love, admiration, passion; you deserve the real thing, whether it's with me or with anyone else. Although I really hope it's with me," he said, smirking.

She laughed softly and brushed her lips against his. "Goodbye, Killian-Eric."

"See you on the other side, my love," he breathed in her ear before turning her towards her son and giving her a little push on her back.

"Ready to go home, kid?" She opened her arms and lifted Henry off the ground when he ran to hug her.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Henry." She said, planting a soft kiss on the crown of his head, her tears meandering in his hair.

Just like when she had kissed him awake from Regina's sleeping curse, and like when she had kissed Eric earlier, a rush of magic and bliss and love shot throughout her and outwards. But this time it was much more powerful, and the pulling sensation she had felt when the real Killian had kissed her was back, but magnified a thousand times. She held onto her son for dear life as the only thing she could see though her closed eyelids was a blinding, warm white light, and then she felt they were falling, falling, falling.

And then she felt softly landing.

* * *

Gods, it hurt.

It hurt too bloody damn much. More than his mother's death and his father's abandonment. More than seeing Milah fall lifeless in his arms and having his hand chopped off.

He felt the burden of all his countless years weighting him down, suffocating him, stabbing millions of tiny needles in his old heart.

What a bloody fool he had been.

He should have known better. He should have known that his dreams were nothing more than a sodding trap. The island itself must have been laughing at him now, mocking the fierce pirate Captain who was turned into a lovestruck sap pliable like clay, driven by its magical and devious influence in his mind. He should have not let Snow White's naïve notions worm into his head and heart.

He should have known Emma Swan could never love him.

Unable to take his eyes off her still-sleeping form like the masochist he was, the truth became clearer and clearer before his eyes. What the hell was he thinking? She was the most beautiful woman to ever grace this land or any other. The Princess, the bearer of the purest magic and the purest heart he'd ever seen, but also the owner of an iron will and incredible strength and courage. She was the Savior, but he was too far gone, there was no salvation for him.

Yet...how easy it had been to believe it. He had been so ready to get his revenge or die trying, until this infuriating woman crossed paths with him and gave him a reason to change his ways. She openly offered him the opportunity to be a better man, to join her family, to be a part of something bigger than just himself. And he had been too scared at first, but his damn siren kept calling him to her, so he ended up accepting her offer. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Now he could see that it was exactly the opposite.

His despair gave way to anger. Blinding, searing anger. He had made the heartfelt offer of his services and ship the second she told him her boy had been kidnapped. He had accepted the Charmings, the bloody Queen and none other than the _fucking Crocodile_ and sailed them all to his own personal hell, the place he had vowed never to set foot on again, the island he dreaded the most. He had done all that for _her_, because he loved her; now he could see it clearly, he'd loved her for a long time now, and she didn't reciprocate.

Why would she?

Until not long ago Killian thought that Emma had saved him, making him feel more alive than he had in centuries; but now it felt as if she had done none other than push him further down into the maelstrom of darkness, hate, brokenness, death. He felt dead inside.

Still, his anger was not directed at her. It was not her fault that he was an unlovable, hopeless bastard. It was entirely his fault for believing for a second that he wasn't.

His agony was threatening to tear him apart. He needed to put an end to it. He'd return to the battle and maim all the Lost Ones and the blasted treacherous pixie or let them have their way with him. He didn't care about his future anymore. He had failed. He was the personification of failure. It occurred to him that he still needed to get Emma and Henry to the group and take them all to the Land Without Magic.

_Sod it all to the seven hells, I've done more than enough for that bunch of gits that have tried to kill me more than once. They can figure it out for themselves._

Resolved, he cast one last look at Emma's face and couldn't resist running his fingers through her hair for the first and last time. He got up and turned around, leaving the room in the cave and heading to face what he had decided was going to be his last battle.

He never saw the two figures stirring awake behind him.

* * *

For a second, Killian was puzzled by the sight in front of him as he exited the tree. When he had left the battle, their group had a clear upper hand; now, the Lost Ones seemed to have multiplied. The royals and the sorcerers were barely able to contain them. Unsheathing his sword, he decidedly made his way to the center of the clearing, stabbing death all the enemies blocking his way, not even sparing a second glance at them. He felt his pain turn into a maniacal killing rage.

Kill or be killed. It was a simple as that.

And he was okay with either outcome.

"Killian! Where's Emma?" he heard Snow White scream at him.

A new rush of agony spread though him. He didn't dignify her question with an answer; instead, he let out a feral growl and ran his sword though a particularly vicious Lost One, nearly cutting him in half.

Snow White was wise enough to not press on the subject.

After seconds or minutes or hours – Who knew? Who cared? –, a chill crept up Killian's spine. He noticed that the sky turned even darker, if that was actually possible, and an unnaturally cold breeze picked up in the clearing, freezing his bones. He looked up to see two figures flying rapidly to the clearing, tiny and shiny next to big and sinister.

Mere seconds later, Tinkerbell and the Shadow were circling the battlefield like vultures waiting for their feast.

_How bloody marvelous._

The pixie gracefully posed on the top branch of the trap-tree again, leaving the Shadow flying in circles, sporting a calm and slightly amused expression on her hardened features. His hatred intensified at the sight. Tinkerbell. After everything she had done for him and what he had done for her... He had saved her life, gods damn it! Had he known what would happen, he wouldn't have even bothered. It was all her fault. Everything was her fault.

His hand moved on its own accord and in a fraction of a second he threw his sword on the ground to grab the small but lethally sharp dagger stored in his boot and he threw it at her, effectively stabbing her in the chest. The pixie gasped and convulsed for a second, staring down at the weapon buried deep inside her body with shocked eyes. Then she looked up and locked her crazed, enraged grey eyes with Killian. Not even blinking, she lifted a hand and withdrew the dagger as if she were taking off a piece of clothing. Her other hand hovered over the bleeding wound and, with a purple light, healed the marred flesh. Smirking, she pointed at the sky and then at him. He didn't understand what she'd meant by that, but a mere second later, he felt a hellish fire burn him from the inside out. He let out a strangled scream as he fought to breathe, while his heart was constricted with fear, hate, sadness, darkness, oblivion, loss. He felt as if he was being ripped apart at the seams, and he didn't even need to turn around to know that _that_ was in fact what was happening.

The Shadow was ripping his own shadow off.

_What a lovely way to go,_ he thought.

In the midst of his excruciating suffering, he heard a woman's scream. But not just any woman.

His head was surely playing with him, torturing him even further before letting him die. Or maybe it was the Shadow toying with its food before eating it. Either way, it bloody hurt as much as what the transparent demon was doing to him.

"KILLIAN!" he heard her scream, and it was so real, so real...

He had to make sure.

With great effort, he opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was the boy, Henry, standing next to the tree's entrance, surrounded by a visible protection bubble that Regina was keeping in place. He saw the Queen say something to him that he didn't quite make out, but it must have been an order for the lad to turn around and stop looking at the scene unfolding before him, because that is exactly what the boy did.

His eyes shifted a little to the right and he saw her.

It wasn't a deception. It was real. _She _was real, and there were tears cascading from her eyes as she watched in horror what the Shadow was doing to him. Letting out a grunt as he continued being tortured, his eyes locked with hers, and at that very moment, a wide beam of golden light came out of her chest and her outstretched hands and hit the Shadow.

It let out an agonized cry and his hold on Killian intensified, almost making the Captain bend over in pain. Yet, he never took his eyes away from Emma's, who kept bombarding It with her magic. He saw her shaking, and he saw the sweat starting to run down her forehead, but she never lowered her guard. Finally, the golden magic started to make cracks on the Shadow, gradually tearing it apart until it emitted a blood-freezing scream and exploded; centuries of haunting and hunting and killing reduced to mere specks of dust scattering around the Neverland jungle.

Exhausted and hurt, Killian fell on his knees, his lung aching with every breath he took. He heard a loud screech and lifted his head, registering what was going on around him.

Tinkerbell contorting sickeningly with pain evident in her face until her body fell lifeless from the branch of the tree. By the time it reached the ground, it was already turned into a silvery brown dust.

Dozens of Lost Ones crying and confusingly asking themselves the same questions over and over again: "Where am I?" "What happened?" "Where is my Mother?"

Emma's green irises disappearing inside her head as she stumbled forward and collapsed on the ground.


	19. The way back

**A/N:** Over 200 followers omg! And so many favorites and reviews! I can't thank you enough, you have no idea how much that means to me! That said, we're approaching the end, dearies! Only one more after that, and then 90% probably an epilogue. I really hope I don't disappoint and that you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End-Blur~_

* * *

Gradually, Emma returned to the realm of wakefulness, but she wasn't ready to open her eyes just yet, eyelids feeling like lead and muscles protesting for some unknown reason when she stirred. She wanted to wake up before Eric and cook some pancakes for him, maybe even get him breakfast in bed as a thank you for having given her the walkie-talkies to talk to Henry. But in order to do that she'd have to get up from the couch once and for all and-

She was not lying on the couch. The surface she was on was bigger and softer; she was definitely on a bed. Had Eric carried her to his bed while she was asleep? She thought she faintly remembered gentle rocking and being pressed against a warm surface...

Reluctantly she opened her eyes and found herself lost and terrified for a moment, not recognizing her barely-lit surroundings. Her head fell to the side against a big, soft pillow, and its scent overwhelmed her senses and brought an avalanche of memories with it.

Musk and rum and leather.

Killian.

Waking up in that tree, the indescribable relief and joy when she turned to her side and saw that Henry was stirring awake too.

Practically crushing her son's bones with her strong embrace as she laughed almost maniacally in relief and violent sobs shook her weak body.

The considerable loss of magic making it harder and harder to breathe.

Exiting the trap-tree and staring in horror at the scene unfolding before her eyes: the maimed bloody corpses on the ground, the sounds of grunts and shouts and cries and clash of metal and thump of bodies falling on the ground and buzz of arrows flying through the air, the Shadow attacking Killian.

Emma's eyes closed and she buried her face deeper in the pillow, inhaling his scent there and trying to placate the unpleasant feelings rising in her chest.

Throughout her life, Emma had felt terrified in many occasions -too many of them for her taste- but seeing Killian's face contorted in excruciating pain as the Shadow had its hands on his back and was apparently trying to rip him off from the seams had to be among the most scaring-shitless-chilling-to-the-bone-and-turning- blood-into-pure-ice things she had experienced so far.

She hadn't realized she had screamed his name until she saw him turn and face her, gaze firmly on hers even with his jaw locked forcefully and lips shut tight as if trying his best not to scream out loud. She had almost forgotten how good the scruff looked on him. And the leather.

A pained grunt had brought her focus back to where it was most needed. Right. She could think of how good he looked later, first she needed to do something, _anything_ to help him, save him. Emma's eyes moved to the Shadow and a wave of anger and determination took over her, invigorating her and suddenly clearing out her hazy brain. That thing was _not _going to hurt anyone she loved. Only over her dead body. And she wasn't planning to die any time soon.

Her arms lifted as if they had a life of their own and she let the love she felt for her son, for her parents who were a few feet away fighting with all their might, for the pirate that had saved her and her boy take control of her. It took all of her strength and effort to keep the three golden beams that shot from her and not let them die down, but the urge she felt to protect her loved ones was stronger than her physical exertion. And after what felt like an eternity later, it was stronger than the Shadow, too.

The last thing she remembered before the overuse of her remaining magic took its toll on her was feeling the heaviness and oppression of Neverland's dark magic easing off and seeing that Killian was unharmed.

_Or wasn't he?_

She needed to make sure. She needed to check if she had managed to save him. She wanted to see her son, too, and her parents. It took all her effort to jump out of the bed, and apparently she was weaker than what she thought because after two strides she unceremoniously fell on the ground with a heavy thud. Emma cursed and tried to lift her face off the wooden planks of the ship's floor when she heard steps approaching and the door suddenly opened, revealing Killian's figure. He was inspecting his cabin with a hand on the hilt of his sword when he caught sight of Emma on the floor and his stance relaxed only a little as his eyebrow rose.

She could feel her cheeks flush and her heart beat faster, but it wasn't entirely due to the embarrassment of her position. "I fell."

"I noticed," he replied, the tiniest hint of amusement in his mostly bored and neutral tone, as he stepped forward and helped her get back to the bed. "What were you trying to do?"

_Make sure you are alright._ "Henry...my parents," she muttered weakly, hating her obvious vulnerability.

He nodded curtly. "All safe and sound; sleeping now."

She exhaled a breath she didn't know she had been holding. "Good. You?"

His mouth quirked up in a bitter smile that didn't reach his eyes. "All in one piece. Well, except for this," he added, lifting his hook, "but that is a previous injury so I reckon it doesn't really count."

"How long was I out?" Emma asked.

"Now? About twelve hours, give or take."

"And...in the-?"

"Between your incredibly careless departure from our camp and your miraculous wakening, a total span of five days."

Her eyebrows scrunched together. Only five days? "It was months for me," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Fear not, after your impressive stunt that ended with the Shadow's existence, Tinkerbell combusted and passed away as well. The Crocodile says he believes it was so because when controlling the Shadow, she let her essence entwine with the Shadow's so deeply that one couldn't exist without the other."

Still a little dazed, Emma nodded as her brain tried to work out the newly acquired information. Everyone was safe. The Shadow was no more. There was no longer dark magic in the island.

"We did it," she breathed, still unable to fully believe it.

"Aye, lass, I'd say that our mission thus far was successful," he agreed, but his demeanor said otherwise.

Okay, she was unbelievably happy to see that Killian was fine, and to hear that so was her family, but he was starting to make her angry. What the hell was up with him? She hadn't been expecting him to declare his undying devotion to her and break into a Disney song rendition as soon as she woke up, but she certainly hadn't expected him to give her the cold shoulder either.

"Is there anything you are not telling me?"

His eyebrows shot up again. "I believe not, dear."

"Then why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"Cold, distant..."

"My apologies, Princess, I was not aware that I was to orchestrate a statement of joy and celebration in your presence. I would perform a little dance for your Grace's entertainment but I'm afraid I'm a little rusty." The iciness and disdain in his voice did nothing but irritate her. He turned around and started walking towards the door. "I'll leave you to rest, your Majesty."

Oh, hells no. _He did not just say that._

"Killian Jones, get your fucking leather-clad ass here right now!"

That made him stop short. He froze for a few seconds and then turned around, facing her with an expression of utter boredom. He moved until he was standing next to the bed, and she propped herself up so she was sitting with her back against the headboard. He pursed his lips, waiting for her to speak.

It was not fair. _He _was not fair. After everything they went through, together and separately, after she was ready to embrace her feelings for the man in front of her, she wanted nothing more than to hold his hand, bury her face against his shoulder and let him hold her. And here he was, acting as if he despised her.

And it really damned hurt.

"Is this because you tried to kiss me awake?" She blurted it out before her brain sent the order to her mouth to keep shut.

_Smooth, Emma. Really smooth._

He froze, his changing emotions brewing a storm so rapidly in his eyes she wasn't able to keep up with them.

"How did you-?"

She stared at him for a long, long time. Then her mouth formed a small smile and she blinked twice, looking at him from under her lashes. "I felt it, idiot."

That, for once, left him without a snarky remark. He stared at her with wide eyes and mouth hanging open for a few heartbeats until his expression hardened again. "Surely due to your obviously powerful magical abilities."

He'd built a fortress to protect himself; she knew about that way too much. "God, you can be so fucking stubborn sometimes," she muttered in frustration.

"Spare the platitudes, love," he said, and winced a little at his unconscious term of endearment. "You must not feel guilty for the fruitlessness of my desperate attempt; I had already figured it would be for naught, but I let myself be misled by some wrongful assumptions."

"Would you just shut up for a second and let me talk?" she asked, quirking her own eyebrow and roughly tugging at his leather coat to bring him down so he could sit at the edge of the bed. She noticed he tried to suppress a hiss when he did sit. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Killian said too quickly, but his hand shot up to his ribs, which she knew hadn't fully healed from his encounter with Greg's car.

"Bullshit. Let me see." Not waiting for an answer, she leaned forward and slapped his arm away to start lifting his shirt. She finally saw some big, blue bruises on his ribs as well as a rounded and wide puncture wound. It did not look pretty.

"Eager, Swan?" he attempted some humor, but his voice was still strained.

Emma paid no attention to him, and focused on the wound. "What happened there?"

"I had a nasty encounter with a not so lovely boar," he stated dryly.

She nodded absentmindedly (_Boars? Are you for real?_), and tried to remember what Gold had done to Belle that night. She let her palm hover over Killian's hurt skin and closed her eyes, thinking about wanting to help him, to cure him...She felt heat on her palm for a second and Killian's sharp intake of breath made her eyes pop open to see that his ribs looked perfectly healed now.

"You didn't have to do that."

She rolled her eyes. "You're welcome. And I know I didn't, but I wanted to." She felt his eyes burning holes in her face, but she didn't look up. "Tinkerbell's curse sent me to some kind of Netherworld in the form of a cursed Storybrooke. I had to find Henry there and bring him back with me, and I had limited time to do so because the pixie was draining my magic and Henry's while we were under, and once the process was complete we would die." She saw that his posture stiffened and his only hand formed a tight fist. "When you kissed me, I felt it. I felt the pull trying to bring me back but it wouldn't work because I still hadn't gotten to Henry. So...I did not feel it because of my 'obviously powerful magical abilities'," she tried to imitate his accent and failed miserably, "I felt it because it was you. It was just a little...mistimed, if you wish. I'm sorry it made you hurt or gave you the wrong ideas."

There, she said it. She kept her eyes intently on her lap, hands fidgeting as she waited for him to say something, _anything._ Finally, she felt the soft pressure of a finger lifting up her chin until she locked eyes with him. He was drinking her in with equal amounts of disbelief and awe in his blue orbs.

"Emma," he breathed, lips spreading slowly until forming a brilliant smile that made Emma's heart practically burst out of her chest. He leaned forward, and so did she. Their lips were just millimeters away; she could feel his hot breath on her face...

A sharp knock on the cabin's door.

Killian shot up to his feet and Emma let her head fall against the headboard just as the door opened and Henry entered the room.

"Mom, you are awake!" he screamed, running to her and hugging her. She chuckled.

"So are you, apparently."

Henry smiled and let go of her, looking around and noticing that they weren't alone. "Sorry, mister Captain," he said sheepishly.

Killian laughed heartily, his mood had seemingly improved since Emma's little speech. "It's okay, lad. And I told you to call me Killian."

"I realized I never really thanked you for bringing my family here and looking for me, so thank you, mister Killian," Henry said as he approached the Captain, a solemn expression on his face as he extended his hand for Killian to shake. The man smiled warmly and took it.

"It was my pleasure, my boy. Quite an awfully big adventure it was."

Emma had never been a sentimentalist before, but she had to admit that seeing her son and the man she loved getting along so well almost made tears threaten to form in her eyes.

"Is that why you are here, lad?" Killian asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Actually, I came to tell my mom that Mr. Gold is looking for her."

Killian's spine straightened and a wave of anger flashed in his eyes. "Did he say what for?"

"He says he has an idea about how to leave Neverland but he needs you, mom," Henry said.

"Tell him that your mother needs rest and is in no condition to deal with his inventions right now," Killian said through gritted teeth.

"Actually, I think I'll see him now," Emma stated.

Killian scoffed, earning a glare from her that he ignored. "May I ask how do you plan to do that when you weren't able to stand on your feet half an hour ago?"

"Hey! I feel much better now," she said stubbornly, getting up and her legs _only_ wobbled a little. The truth was that she was feeling stronger, and she really wanted to get out of that damn island pronto.

"Let me help, love," he said, defeated, moving to wrap his arm around her waist to hold her still. "Lead the way, lad."

The three of them exited the Captain's cabin and moved to the main deck, to find Rumplestiltskin with a jar of something akin to sparkly dirt in his hands.

"Welcome back, miss Swan," he said smoothly, eyes darting to Killian's hand still around her waist. "I have no doubt that you desire to leave this realm behind as soon as possible."

"What do you have in there?"

"Why, simply the remains of our lovely friend-turned-foe, the pixie."

_Ew. _"And what do you want me to do with that?"

"As I have told you many a time, you possess the purest, most powerful kind of magic known in any realm. If you focus on getting back to Storybrooke and you, well, think happy thoughts," he rolled his eyes, "I believe you will succeed in restore this pixie dust to its original properties, thus making it able for us to fly back home."

"Fly back? Seriously?" she asked.

"Yes, dearie."

"She's suffered too much exertion, Crocodile, she needs time to fully recover before you exploit what remains of her strength," Killian hissed.

"I wouldn't have asked her now, pirate, if I thought she would not be capable of doing it in her current state," the short man replied with disdain. "Plus, even here in the timeless land, time is of great urgency. I don't know about you, but I surely don't want to stay to watch once the inhabitants of Pixie Hollow discover what really happened to the sister they thought was long gone."

Emma sighed and stepped forward, taking the jar from Gold's hands. She saw out of the corner of her eye that her parents had emerged from below deck and were staring at her with relief, happiness and pride. She sent them a smile and focused on her home, on sending the ship back to the misty coast of Storybrooke, on keeping her loved ones out of danger once and for all.

The brownish sparks turned to a vibrant yellow and Gold emitted a crazed giggle. "I told you, dearie."

"Sprinkle every inch of the ship with the dust and get ready to set sail!" The pirate Captain commanded. Henry promptly took the big jar from Emma, opened the lid and started running around the deck, throwing fistfuls of the substance everywhere he went. Once he was over, the Jolly started to vibrate under their feet and moved forward on her own. Killian moved to the helm and everyone took their place as they had done countless times before in this mission. Emma really hoped this would be the last time, though. The ship tilted upwards and in a manner of minutes they were floating in the air, gaining more and more height until the Neverland clouds formed a soft mist among them on deck. Emma stood right by Killian's side, manning the helm with him, her mind never drifting from their objective: Storybrooke.

After an undetermined amount of time, she stopped feeling the always present magic around them and the clouds dissipated, revealing an overcast grey sky and the outlines of buildings of a small town beneath them. The Jolly began to descend on its own while Killian and Emma kept a hold grip on the helm to maintain the ship on track, and suddenly she heard Henry's cry of joy. She looked down and saw the familiar clock tower.

They had made it.

The ship landed softly on the water and, not long after, they were docking in the Storybrooke harbor.

It was over. Finally, thank God, it was all over.

She let her head rest on Killian's shoulder and closed her eyes when she felt his lips brush the crown of her head. Everything would be alright now.

She barely registered the cheering sounds coming from the many town citizens who had gathered by the docks to witness their arrival. Her utter bliss was suddenly cut short and at Henry's desperate scream of happiness.

"OH MY GOD! DAD!"


	20. Closures and beginnings

**A/N:** Here it is, the last one. Damn. *sappy music on the background* I can't thank you enough for sticking with me through this whole journey, and I really hope I don't disappoint you with the ending. An epilogue will come your way soon. Again, thanks so much! **_Warning: This chapter is M-rated. Mwahahaha.  
_****Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End-Blur~_

* * *

As soon as the Jolly magically lowered the gangplank, Henry ran down and straight to Neal's outstretched arms, followed by Mr. Gold, who was approaching as fast as his limp would allow him to Belle and his son, tears in his eyes. Emma was frozen in her spot, feeling she was about to have a panic attack, her hands gripping the helm so tightly she was sure she was about to break one of the pegs.

He was not dead. He had been shot in the chest and he had fallen through a portal, but somehow he survived and made his way back.

She had told him that she needed him and loved him because she thought he was going to die, she had shed her tears for him and mourned the loss of him –with Killian's help, none other – she had finally let go of over a decade of heartache and brokenness and rejection and was ready to move forward, to start over; and here he came, still haunting her.

She was incredibly happy that he had not died, of course, because he didn't deserve to and because she didn't want Henry to be fatherless, but right now the sight of him and the imminent talk on the horizon made her physically sick. She looked up to Killian, but his face was stoic, unreadable, unwilling to meet hers.

"Emma?" the blonde turned around to the hesitant call and saw her parents slowly approaching her with identical looks of concern. "Want to talk for a second?" her mother said.

At that, Killian shook his head imperceptibly and took a step back from the helm and Emma. "I'll give you some privacy, Majesties. Need to check if there's any damage in my ship anyway." With a curt nod, he turned around, but Snow surprised them all by stopping him, grabbing his hooked arm.

"Wait, Killian!" _Since when does she call him Killian?_ Emma thought. "I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for us during this whole journey." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek gently.

To say that the man was utterly shocked by that would be an understatement, judging by the look on his face. David took a step forward and circled his wife's waist with his left arm in a protective manner, but extended his right hand towards Killian. "Without you, we wouldn't have been able to get our family together again. I can't thank you enough, Captain," the man said solemnly.

Killian smirked a little, but shook hands with her father anyways. "I've never been one to say to no a challenge," he said simply, downplaying his role but casting a sideways glance at Emma. She was sure he winked. "Now I'll leave you to talk to your daughter. Majesties," he addressed, bowing slightly before disappearing below deck.

"Well, it's nice to know that I have your approval," Emma commented with a raised eyebrow, still looking at the door behind which Killian had gone.

Snow laughed and David grunted a little. "Don't worry about your father; I've already told him the situation and he has promised to behave and not cut off Killian's other hand," Snow told her in a mock secretive voice, which made David grunt some more.

"Good to know," Emma replied, a small smile working its way on her face.

"Oh, honey," her mother said, suddenly wrapping her in a crushing hug. "I'm so happy for you. So, so happy."

"Thanks, mom," she answered, a little –very– uncomfortable, patting the small woman's back gently until she released her. "I really hope there's not some sort of alien invasion in town or something like that. I could really use a time out of adventures and magical and supernatural things."

"Everything looks normal," her father commented, scanning the town briefly with his hand on his forehead to protect his eyes from the sun that was starting to peek out from among the clouds.

Emma followed his gaze, which proved to be a huge mistake because she found Neal still clinging to Henry, looking at her with a bright smile and waving his arm. She smiled back –she was, after all, glad he was alive- and made a sign at him with her hand to let him know that she had seen him. She saw him nod and sighed.

She was _not_ looking forward to their reunion.

"You're gonna have to talk to him," Snow said, looking at the pair on the docks, as if she'd been reading Emma's thoughts.

"Yeah. I know. It's gonna be complicated."

"How so?"

"I think I never told you guys this, but, before he let go of my hand and fell through the portal, I told him I loved him. I don't know why, maybe because the situation brought me back to our time together, maybe because I was afraid of him leaving me again or because I believed he was done for and wanted him to have that last memory. Apparently, he took it to heart," Emma commented with a wince. Neal had never looked at her in the way he was now, so there was no other explanation.

"And that makes you feel confused?" David inquired softly.

Emma thought about it for a few seconds, but, in all honesty, there was nothing to think about. "No," she answered, no hint of doubt in her voice. "I know it probably should. I mean, for months I wrapped my head around the thought that he was dead and it turns out he's not; but that doesn't change what I feel for Killian at all. The only thing I'm dreading is talking to Neal about it. He will not take it well; I'm sure of that. He already believes he took away his mother and he'll probably think he's taking away his mother's son too."

"You'll make him see reason, I'm sure. If you need anything, you know you can count on us and we will always support you," her mother said.

"I know. Thank you, guys. Now go greet your people, I'll take care of this." She watched as they made their way down and Snow hurried to hug Leroy and the other six dwarves while David warmly greeted Granny and Ruby and shook hands with Archie.

"Excuse me, Miss Swan?" Regina's voice called from behind her.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering... Would you mind if I take Henry with me tonight, please? I would bring him to your home first thing tomorrow. I didn't spend much time with him before all this happened, and I just-"

"Of course, Regina," she cut her off, smiling. The woman may be an evil bitch but she still was Henry's mother and she deserved to be with him. "Despite our differences, I know he'll be more than safe and fine with you."

The brunette looked like she hadn't been expecting that, but smiled and nodded, grateful, before leaving the ship. She approached Neal and Henry and, after a brief exchange, took Henry's hand and headed towards Main Street with him.

Now Neal was the only person standing there; the others had cleared out quite quickly. Emma turned around in search for Killian but he was nowhere to be seen. She knew this must be hard and shocking for him too; he loved Neal –or,Baelfire– after all. Sighing and bracing herself, she began her descent towards the place where the father of her son was standing.

"EMMA!" He exclaimed as soon as she stepped on Storybrooke's docks. He ran to her and before she registered what was going on, he had lifted her in his arms and was twirling her in the air. She looped her hands around his neck to avoid falling down and waited for him to set her on the ground again. When he finally did, he looked at her with eyes bright with happiness and cupped her cheek. Slowly, he started to lean forward...

"I see you survived the portal," she commented, looking down and hating how awkward she felt. Neal didn't seem to notice her uneasiness but for his eyebrows scrunching together for a second.

"Yeah," he answered, his smile never faltering, which made Emma feel even worse. "Somehow I did, and I fought tooth and nail to come back to Henry and you."

"How-" her throat was dry, so she cleared it before trying again. "How did you do it?"

"It's long and messy, but to make a long story short, I ended up in the Enchanted Forest, where Aurora, Philip and Mulan found me and healed my shot wound. Mulan and I went in search of something that would help me get back and we ran into Robin Hood. He took us to see Merlin and the old man did some weird shit on a mirror and allowed me to step through to this realm."

Robin Hood? Fucking _Merlin_? What else was there in store, teenage emperors turned llamas? Her musings got interrupted by Neal's voice.

"Emma, I missed you so much. I dreamed so many nights about having you back in my arms. I love you, Emma."

She looked up to his face and winced. Oh, God. This was going to be much harder than she thought.

"Neal...I am so, so glad that you are alright, and you have no idea how happy I am that you can be a part of Henry's life and that he didn't lose his dad after all, but we need to talk about what happened at the cannery."

For the first time, his smile died a little. "Wha-what do you mean? You said you need me and you love me. And I realized I love you too."

"I thought you were dying!" she blurted out, and regretted it instantly. He looked as if she'd slapped him. "Neal, I'm sorry. I do love you, I do. You are the first man I ever loved, and the father of my son. You'll always have a cherished place in my heart. But a lot has happened. Not only during these months, but also during all those years in which I waited for you, in which you could have looked for me and been with me but chose not to."

"I was too afraid, I took the easy way out. Please, give me another chance."

"You had plenty of chances. You could have stayed with me instead of listening to August and sending me to jail for _your_ crime. When he told you the curse was broken you knew where I was but you didn't come. You chose to stay in Manhattan with your fiancée. You say you love me but you never actually did anything to prove it. I'm sorry Neal, I really am, but I can't give you another chance and I don't want to, because I don't want to get back together with you. I love you, but not romantically."

He looked shocked to the core. It was clear that he hadn't expected things to turn out this way, but it was better to get over it as soon as possible. "But...but Emma, I'm sorry, I know, I should have fought for you, I should have listened to you-"

"Damn right you should have," she said, now starting to feel angry. "You know where we were these last weeks? In fucking Neverland. And why did we go to Neverland? Because Tamara and her lover-slash-partner-in-crime kidnapped Henry and took him there. If you really loved me as you say you do, you would have listened to me all those times I said there was something fishy about that girl, instead of patronizing me and treating me like the jealous ex cliché _in front of our son._"

"What? Are you blaming me for that? How the hell was I supposed to know she wanted to take Henry to Neverland?"

"Before that, she almost succeeded in destroying the town and killing everyone in it. No, Neal, you had no way of knowing what her real plans were, but I knew she was up to something and you didn't believe me, and you defended her until pretty much minutes before she shot you and sent you through a portal. And now you say you love _me_?"

He looked hurt and furious, and she hated making this to him and crushing his hopes like that, but she had to make him understand. And, for once, it felt so good to _finally_ let it all out, to let go of the burden that had been weighing her down for so long.

"I think you love the seventeen-year-old girl who stole the car you had stolen first. But that girl is long gone. I am different, and so are you," she said softly.

Neal looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time, and after long minutes, he nodded slowly and took a step back. "I guess...I guess you're right."

She let out a relieved sight and gave him a small apologetic smile. "Thanks, Neal, and I'm sorry. Really."

"I know. Me too. I guess I have some thinking to do now. Can I?" he asked, opening his arms a little.

She nodded with a smile and let him give her a quick but heartfelt hug. "Are we going to be OK?"

"Of course," he said, letting her go. "I'll go see my dad now, I think. See you around, Emma."

"Yeah, take care," she said. She stood on the docks, watching his retreating form, feeling a sense of utter peace. When Neal disappeared around a corner, Emma turned around and started making her way up the Jolly again. She had unfinished business with her pirate.

* * *

Killian was surprised to hear the creaks in the gangplank signaling that someone was coming up. He expected it to be an enraged Baelfire coming to claim Emma as his and accuse him of breaking up his family, like he had done centuries before. His hand immediately unsheathed his sword. As happy as he was that Milah's son hadn't died, he would not hesitate in fighting him if it was needed. He would do anything for Emma.

The cabin's door flew open behind him and he turned around adopting a fighting stance with his sword lifted high, only to find Emma looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Why would you go to into so much trouble and saving me in Neverland if you're going to run me through with your sword now?" she asked, amusement and curiosity in her voice.

"Pardon me, lass, I was merely getting ready for what I considered was an imminent duel with Baelfire over your affections," he replied, throwing his sword on the ground and smirking at her, earning a smile from her. _She is so beautiful..._

"I just talked to him," Emma said, shifting her balance from her toes to her heels and looking down. "It was not pretty."

"Are you well?" he asked, concerned that the man might have hurt her.

"Yeah, we needed that talk. Everything is fine, now," she looked up at him and gave him a brilliant smile, which slowly turned into a playful smirk. "Although I would be so much better if you finally let go of whatever is holding you back and get your ass here and kiss me."

Killian didn't need to be told twice. He closed the distance between them in one swift motion and crushed his lips against hers, sealing their fate together. It was slow, sensual, meaningful. He'd always imagined that kissing her and holding her against him would ignite a firestorm inside him, like a spark on gunpowder; but at the moment he felt something deeper, akin to a stream of magma, slowly but effectively running through his entire being and filling every crack, healing every wound.

That is, until Emma caught his tongue with her lips and sucked it into her mouth.

Oh, there it was, the spark on gunpowder.

His grip on her waist tightened, their kiss increased its intensity to an almost brutal pace in mere seconds. Her arms wrapped around his waist, bringing him flush against her, and suddenly his pants felt a couple sizes too small. Vaguely he felt Emma smirk against his mouth and then both of them moving until the back of his legs hit his bed and he collapsed on it, bringing Emma with him. Before she could accommodate herself on top of him, he rolled them over, pinning her down against the mattress with his knees on either side of her thighs. He towered over her for a moment, taking his time to admire her flushed face, her chest heaving with her panted breaths and her green eyes darkened with lust and anticipation before diving down and assaulting her mouth with his again.

One of her hands looped around his neck while the other started to undo the buttons of his shirt. He shrugged the fabric out of his arms after she was done and hissed with pleasure when her fingertips started to scan the muscles of his chest. He pushed her to him so she was kneeling in front of him and he promptly took off her shirt and -with a little help from her- the small contraption that covered her breasts.

_Sweet merciful gods._

She was a true goddess.

He carefully lied her on her back again and settled to the task of not leaving a mere inch of her skin unexplored, trailing his lips and tongue down her jaw, her neck, her breasts, around her navel. He felt her tremble lightly and his fingers moved to undo the button of her trousers and push them down her legs slowly, tortuously. He got up to finish divesting them both of their remaining clothing, and felt a rush of satisfaction when he saw Emma's eyes widen for a second at the sight of him bare in front of her.

"Like what you see?" He just couldn't help teasing her.

"Shut up and come back here," she ordered breathlessly in mock annoyance.

"As the lady wishes," he murmured, crawling back on top of her and positioning himself between her legs.

His eyes locked with hers, and, even though he'd never considered himself a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, he felt a lump in this throat forming at all the love he could see in her green eyes. Love for him. Love he didn't deserve.

She seemed to have read his thoughts –when didn't she?–, for she caressed his cheek with her thumb and, with a small smile, nodded. Killian leaned forward, kissing her lips and joining their bodies completely at last.

It took all his strength not to fall apart right there and then, the feeling of her surrounding him, her moan into his mouth threatening to become just too much to bear. He waited a couple seconds to let her adjust and recover a little of his composure – the little composure he had left, that was – and then he started to move. Slowly, thoroughly, savoring every single moment and making her savor it as well. He kissed her pulse point, worshiped her body, reveling on the sounds that his ministrations elicited from her and on the feeling of her fingers digging in his scalp and tracing patterns on his back.

He felt her inner muscles tighten, and the sight of her reaching her peak, eyes shut and mouth parted in a silent cry was enough for him to join her over the edge. Overwhelmed by the sensations, Killian collapsed on top of her and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply. He felt boneless, whole, _pure._ They held each other tightly, using the other as their anchor, as the last waves of their peaks brushed them. He felt more than heard Emma let out a quiet laugh, and lifted his gaze to her. She was smiling down at him, her expression one of pure bliss.

He felt yet another lump in his throat at the realization that it was _him_ who had made that beautiful, perfect creature so happy.

She had turned him into a lovesick puppy. Damn that woman.

With great effort, he rolled to his side and reached for the covers to put them over their bodies, protecting them from the cool breeze inside the cabin. She snuggled close to him and placed her head on his chest, kissing the area above his heart before lifting her eyes to his.

They stayed like that, looking at each other for a long time, not saying anything. Words were unnecessary; their eyes spoke volumes, transmitting the message loud and clear.

_I love you._

_I love you, too._


	21. Epilogue: The movie marathon

**A/N:** And here it is, the epilogue! It's really fluffy and sappy, sorry, but I am a fluffy and sappy person so I couldn't help it. I hope you enjoyed my story and thank you for letting me share it with you and for your invaluable support!  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing

* * *

_Well, you and I collapsed in love_  
_And it looks like we might have made it_  
_Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end._  
_~To the End-Blur~_

* * *

"You ready?" Henry asked.

"One minute, kid!" Emma called from the kitchen, putting the bag of popcorn on the microwave and starting it.

For some really strange reason, the spinning motions of the bag inside the device that still made Killian jump in shock put her in a philosophical mood and made her think about everything that had happened in the few months since their successful arrival from Neverland.

As astonishing as it was, there were no threats of any kind or any magical monsters waiting for them; nor had they appeared while the group gradually worked on their reinsertion in the routines of their lives in the small Maine town. Emma, Neal and Regina had agreed –not without a few yells and screams and a couple of broken vases due to an overload of magic – that each would spend two days a week with Henry, leaving the seventh day for him to be with his grandparents or wherever he wanted. No one was entirely happy with the arrangement, as they all wanted to spend as much time as possible with the boy, but it was the fairest thing to do and, for one, the all acted as civilized adults about the matter.

Neal's relationship with Emma was still a little rocky and distant, especially after he found out about she and the pirate, but he got over it quicker than she had expected. To his credit, Emma had to admit that she'd never seen him acting so maturely towards her, Killian and even his father. She didn't know exactly what he had endured in the Enchanted Forest but apparently it changed him deeply. She would have to remember to ask him to tell her everything about it once they returned to normal speaking terms. It might take a while, but she was confident that she could have a polite acquaintance with Henry's father, perhaps they could even be friends someday, after they both got over all the past between them.

Regina's relationship towards her whole family also changed for the better. It was proving to be very hard, but the former Queen was willing to finally let go of her grudge and leave behind her hatred for Snow White and her practice of dark magic, for Henry. It was not a change that could be achieved overnight, though. While in Neverland, the good guys and the bad guys had saved each other's lives many times, and despite their differences, they were united for their common goal; now that they were back, that situation of camaraderie had ended but it was not entirely forgotten, which resulted in awkward situations sometimes. They all still had a lot to work on, especially with Regina's sarcastic remarks and Charming glaring daggers at her every time her eyes settled on Snow White; but Henry was extremely happy about his family finally being together and getting along, so they all tried to make it work for him.

The only one they didn't have much contact with was Gold, as shortly after arriving they found out that Belle was pregnant –Emma did _not_ want to ponder too much about that particular fact – so the pawnbroker dedicated all his time to his girlfriend and unborn child and to his living son, trying really hard to make up his relationship with him.

The loud beep of the microwave shook Emma out of her musings. She carefully withdrew the hot bag and poured its contents in a big bowl. She took the bowl to the living room, where both of her True Loves were waiting for her on the couch, gracing her with identical radiant smiles when they saw her approach.

Being in a relationship with Captain Hook was way more natural than how it sounded when it was put like that. Actually, it felt as if they'd been born to be together; although Emma sometimes would wake in the middle of the night due to an alien presence that turned out to be Killian's arm around her waist or his nose against her neck, and she'd smile, still amazed with the fact that after eleven years of voluntary loneliness she found her soulmate, and he was what she had always believed was just a fairytale character.

Killian scooted on the sofa to make room for her between him and Henry and softened a couple of cushions for her to use. He really was a gentleman.

"You ready for this?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

"When am I not ready for something, love?" he countered with a smirk.

"You won't like it, I warn you," Henry said from his place on her other side.

"I've dealt with the most frightening and vicious creatures of practically all the known realms, my lad, I think I can handle watching a moving drawing. Plus, you both still refuse to enlighten me as to the constitution of a 'perm' thing, so I want to find out," he answered, his chin up and eyes determined, fixed on the TV in front of them.

"Okay, but don't say we didn't tell you," Emma whispered, leaning in to kiss his cheek as she pressed the Play button on the remote. Colors and sounds started to come out of the device, but her attention was undividedly set on the pirate in front of her. Boy, was she going to enjoy this.

Killian was obviously aware of the two sets of eyes intently focused on him, but he did his best to ignore it and focus on the movie. He made no comment about Pan's portrayal, but for the occasional raise of an eyebrow, but it was more a reflex than anything. By the time Disney's Hook made his first appearance, he let go of all composure and widened his eyes in astonishment, his pointy ears going red with the barely contained anger.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS?"

His offended cry was muffled by the sounds of Emma and Henry's hysterical laughs.

"Emma! This is not fun! Turn this off, I don't want to keep watching this hideous affront! What's with all that puffy hair?"

"That's a perm," she said once she sobered a little.

"THAT is a perm?! By your tone I had imagined it was like a kind of enormous wart or some physical deformation...although perhaps it is. And who chose that costume? This is humiliating!"

"Stop! Can't...take it...anymore," Henry said in between laughs, rolling off the couch and landing on the floor, holding his stomach.

"Oh, that's nice, good to know you are all the good ones, taking enjoyment in a man's suffering," he complained with an annoyed voice, but Emma saw in the way his eyes softened that he was actually quite enjoying seeing them so carefree and happy. "Now, really, is the man who drew this still alive?"

"No, don't think so, this movie is like sixty years old," Emma said.

"Good for him, then," Killian answered menacingly.

After the initial shock, they watched the rest of the movie in relative calmness, save from one or two more outraged comments from Killian ("I can't believe your world sees me as a bloody coward afraid of an animal" and "I AM NO CODFISH!"). At some point near the end, he got so offended that he refused to keep watching, and started eating –devouring– all the popcorn ("This is one of your world's greatest marvels, love").

"Don't worry, this is a caricature for kids, in the original book you weren't portrayed like that," Emma said once the movie was over, running a finger against his scrunched brow to soothe it. "Although this is what most people think about when someone mentions Captain Hook."

His expression when from annoyed to calculating and amused in a split of a second. He turned to her, wearing a smug and playful expression and she braced herself for his imminent innuendo.

"It must have been quite a pleasant surprise when I first introduced myself to you, then."

"It was," she agreed absentmindedly before it fully registered and she felt her cheeks burn under his triumphant smirk. "I mean, I was surprised, of course! But I wasn't thinking about you in that way back then," she added lamely, eyes intent on the remote resting on her lap.

She heard him chuckle and his lips brushed her ear. "Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Can we watch the next one now?" Henry asked, effectively breaking their moment.

"Please don't tell me there are more of these profanities," Killian pleaded adorably, making Emma laugh.

"There are, actually, but don't worry, we won't be seeing them...at least not today."

"Then what is it?"

"You'll see," Henry said cheekily, stooping in front of the TV to change the DVDs. He went back to his seat and played the movie.

Again, Emma's eyes were on Killian, closely inspecting his confused expression as he tried to make out the grey blobs on the screen.

"I don't understand. What is that, love?"

Emma smiled and her hand moved until it found his. She held it tight and squeezed. "That's my uterus. The grey circle in the center is our baby, and the sound you're hearing is its heartbeat."

His hand unconsciously tightened its grip on hers, and his wide eyes traced a triangular area while travelling repeatedly from the TV to her face to her belly. When a couple of minutes went by and he still didn't say anything –or closed his loose jaw – she started to get uneasy. "I know it's too soon, and unexpected, and I should probably have taken some measures to avoid this..."

He shut her up by crushing his lips against hers desperately. She tasted salt and couldn't figure out if the tears were his or hers. Probably both.

"A baby," Killian whispered against her lips when he pulled apart, his voice coated with awe and reverence.

"Are you happy?" Emma asked, still a little insecure and freaked out, but mostly relieved that he had taken it so well.

"I've never been this happy in my whole life, Emma," he claimed, his hand moving under her shirt to caress the skin of her barely rounded belly. "I love you."

"I love you too," she answered, leaning in to kiss him once again.

Henry cleared his throat behind them. "Guys? I'm still here!"

"Sorry, lad," Killian said, leaning back on the couch but bringing Emma with him and wrapping his arms around her. "How long have you guys known?"

"Just a couple of days," Henry answered, beaming. "Mom went to the doctor and they made a sonogram –that's what we were watching."

"It's like a picture that allows seeing if the baby is okay and growing correctly," Emma answered Killian's unasked question. "They record it and let you take a copy so you can see it at your home."

"And we were discussing the best way to tell you, so I suggested watching the movies to really surprise you!" Henry said proudly. He was ecstatic about being a big brother from the moment Emma told him, and now that the secret was out he didn't have to pretend he didn't know anymore.

"Well you certainly achieved your goal," Killian said, chuckling. Emma had never seen him so bright and young.

"Anyway, it's late, I think I'm going to bed," Henry stated, getting up and stretching his arms behind his face. He leaned over Emma and kissed her goodnight; then he moved to Killian and hugged him, burying his face against the man's shoulder.

"Congratulations, Killian. I'm really happy for you guys."

He seemed genuinely moved by the kid's words, and hugged him back, smiling and ruffling his hair. "Thank you, lad."

Once he disappeared behind his bedroom door, Killian brought Emma's face to his and kissed her like he couldn't do with an underage kid in the room. She was quick to reciprocate, pouring all her love for him and their baby in the kiss.

"Are we really having a baby?"

"Yes, Killian. We are." Emma gingerly got up and crouched in front of the TV where the sonogram DVD was paused. "This is the body, and this is going to be the head," she said, pointing at different parts of the image. "It's still too small so it doesn't have all the body parts developed."

"It's the most amazing thing I have ever seen," he said, as they both stared at the screen as if they were watching the most beautiful sight in existence. "How far behind are you, love?" he asked several minutes later.

"Dr. Whale said almost seven weeks."

"I'll have to condition the Jolly to make it suitable, although maybe he or she would not be fit for the ship in some time..."

"Hey," Emma said, grabbing his face and caressing his cheeks with her thumbs. "We still have a little over seven months to figure all that out. Let's just enjoy this now."

He smiled and nodded. "What do you think it's going to be? I was always told that mothers seem to have a kind of supernatural gift to know."

"No idea, really. I didn't even realize I was pregnant until three days ago." She laughed, then worried her lip between her teeth as a sudden idea appeared in her head. "If it's a boy, I would really like to call him Eric, if it's okay with you."

He pulled apart to read her face. "Why?"

"Um...well...I never told you this, but when I was under Tinkerbell's spell, I met another you." He raised an eyebrow. "It was you, but with a different personality, like what all the people here had before I broke the curse. And your name there was Eric and you helped me a lot to break the curse. He disappeared when I woke up, of course, but I don't know, I didn't want him to be completely gone and forgotten."

"I think it's an excellent idea, love, with one condition."

"What?"

He gave her a toothy grin. "That you wear that short pink dress for me one of these days."

Now it was Emma's turn to be floored.

"How-How _the hell_ did you know about that dress?"

"Turns out while you were gone I had a couple of dreams in which my mind was somehow transported to your cursed world and I could see things from this Eric bloke perspective. Apparently it had something to do with a True Love connection or something like that, I don't know if you're familiar with the concept," he answered cheekily.

The perfectly logical absurdity of the situation made Emma laugh heartily as she wrapped her arms around Killian's shoulders. "And you still refused to believe in it after I woke up."

"Who would have thought that you'd be the believer and I'd be the stubborn one, aye?" Killian said, earning a gentle slap from her.

"Well, you do have a point," she conceded. She got up and grabbed his hand before heading towards the bedroom. "Now about the other thing...I don't have that dress anymore, it got stained with wine and ruined," she stopped to admire the pout Killian directed at her. Emma stood on her tiptoes to kiss it away and then breathe against his lips. "I might have something else to make it up to you, though."

He wiggled his eyebrows, bending to pick her up and carry her bridal style to the bedrom, kicking the door shut behind them.

_~The End~_


End file.
